


Odd Reparations

by 0idontknow0



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fanfiction, M/M, Rating: NC17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 03:40:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1289908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0idontknow0/pseuds/0idontknow0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco did not quite expect Potter to be the one to buy him at the auction, he didn’t really expect an auction to begin with, and he definitely did not expect Potter to be utilizing him in the way that he did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Odd Reparations

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank the absolutely lovely asnq8 for her last minute beta of what was my terribly incomplete fic.
> 
>  **Contains(s):** deep throating, spanking, dub-con, minor character death, eating disorders, major angst, violence
> 
> **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Written for [hp_sextars](http://hp-sexstars.livejournal.com/) 2012

 

 

 ***

 

Draco swallowed discreetly as he watched the goings-on. The Dark Lord had lost the war. Potter and the Order of the Phoenix had won. Wizarding society was in shambles. Despite all that, the Ministry apparently had enough time, and audacity, to auction off the surviving Death Eaters – those deemed stable without a wand - to the angry, suffering, vindictive public in the name of war reparations.  


  
Draco awaited his turn.

  


He and the other Death Eaters were huddled in a waiting room dressed in the same drab attire, dark grey coveralls that were made with ridiculously cheap fabric and that came in about two sizes –large and extra large. Draco was swallowed in the garb and it did not help that he had thinned down during the war. He ceased concentrating on his attire and forced himself to pay attention though. There was no point in trying to distract himself now, there was nothing he could do to escape this. Not even his father’s hand on his shoulder could calm him.  
  
“Draco Lucius Malfoy,” said the orotund voice of the auctioneer, made all the louder by a Sonorus charm.  
  
His father squeezed his shoulder and his mother whispered reassurances to him since she was too far away to do much else. They were arranged in alphabetical order and held shackle to shackle so that they could not successfully move their way through the group and cause any sort of trouble. Draco nodded his thanks to his parents, hoping that they would be able to see one another again. They all knew that a number of the buyers had malicious intentions behind their purchases and that many of the Death Eaters might undergo severe treatment, which to be completely honest, they deserved. They each hoped they were one of those lucky enough to come out in nearly the same condition they went into the buyer’s possession with though.  
  
Draco felt his shackles separate from those of his father's and he was dragged aside and pushed into a tall, narrow cell. The door clanged shut behind him and the ground below him rose. He closed his eyes and calmed his breathing despite his fear, opening them when he felt the first rays of sunshine on his head. It was bright outside, blinding even. It had been near a month since he had last seen the outside world.  
  
He had missed it.  
  
The wrought iron gate before him rose as slowly as his heart beat quickened and he was seized viciously by the arm and pulled harshly into the centre of the arena. He was in something akin to a coliseum, perhaps it was one. He glanced up at the crowd swiftly, using only his eyes, and they stared down at him. To say he was nervous was very much an understatement. Draco simply straightened his spine and looked ahead of him as he waited for the proceedings to begin. He would do what he had done at the Manor. He would stifle his emotions so that he could live through it.  
  
“Charged with letting the Death Eaters into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, torturing innocents, aiding in the confinement and ill treatment of a number of citizens and colluding with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to oppress those that are not pure-blooded or who are deemed blood traitors. May we begin the bidding?”

  


***

  


Harry was bored. He had come to the auction because Ron and Neville had wanted to see all the drama unfold. Hermione found the entire idea rather disgusting and wanted nothing to do with it. She also wanted to find her parents so she had left for Australia the day before, after spending the past month helping Ron to deal with Fred's death and then spending the rest of her time studying reversal spells for when she located her parents, not to mention a number of tracking charms so that she would have a better chance of finding them.  
  
He fiddled with the end of his number, everyone in the coliseum got one “just in case”, and listened half heartedly as people jeered at whoever was in the arena, called out bids and informed him of the various crimes the respective Death Eater had committed or was suspected of committing. Thankfully they had already gone through half the alphabet so he could leave soon.  
  
 _I wish_.  
  
“Draco Lucius Malfoy,” said the auctioneer, his voice clear and overbearing.  
  
Harry glanced down at the arena and watched the blonde. Clad in the bland coveralls that all the others had worn so far, he looked thin, tired, and distant. The man’s eyes were fixed before him and he stood tall despite his controlled breathing. Malfoy was afraid. He should be. Merlin knew what half these people would do to those Death Eaters, never mind that some of them probably deserved it for what they had done and the lives they had taken.  
  
“Three sickles!” yelled Ron.  
  
“FOUR!” Neville hollered. The two had been doing that all day just for the fun of it.  
  
“Ten for the sodding git!” yelled a woman.  
  
Malfoy flinched.  
  
“Eleven!”  
  
“Fifteen! The traitor isn’t worth more than that!”  
  
“A Galleon! He ought to learn what he put us through!” came the angry voice of some bloke Harry could not see.  
  
These people wanted Malfoy and they were out for blood.  
  
“Four!”  
  
Malfoy had been a catalyst in the war.  
  
“Seven”  
  
He let the Death Eaters in.  
  
“Ten! ”  
  
He had tried to kill Dumbledore.  
  
“Fifteen galleons!” Harry yelled. He never used much of the money in his vault so he reckoned it would not hurt to spend some. He had enough.  
  
"Twenty!" he heard after a few beats. The man's voice was vaguely familiar.  
  
"Twenty-five!" he said.  
  
"Thirty-four!" they said again.  
  
"For fuck's sake," he muttered. "Fifty!"  
  
There was a moments silence and he used it to look down at his school rival. Malfoy was scanning the crowd for the bidder but there were far too many people there for him to spot Harry so easily.  
  
“S-sold! To number forty-two for fifty galleons!” the auctioneer said, glancing at the number that appeared in the air. “You may collect him at the south end of the coliseum. Next up is, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy!”  
  
“Bloody hell, mate,” Ron whispered, “Did you just...”  
  
“I reckon he did,” Neville said, awed.  
  
“What for?” asked Ron. “Gonna have him clean Grimmauld Place with his toothbrush? I reckon he should do basically everything for you for the rest of summer. Fifty galleons, blimey, Harry.”  
  
“Not sure what I'll use him for yet. I just sort of felt like buying him,” Harry said, and it was the truth. He had no clue why he bought Malfoy but he reckoned he might as well have the bloke help clean Grimmauld. Never mind that Malfoy would not be able to use magic so it would take forever. “How long do I get to keep him for?”  
  
“Rest of the summer I think, so about 3 months,” Neville supplied.

  


At the end of the auction Harry went to collect his purchase. He paid for Malfoy and signed all the necessary documents. He even got a receipt. While he waited, he saw Blaise Zabini standing with Narcissa Malfoy as she signed a few papers. The man sent a glare in his direction. Perhaps he was the other bidder. Well it seemed that at least one of the Death Eaters might get fairly good treatment then. If any of them deserved it, it was her. When the door opened Malfoy was escorted... well, manhandled really... to Harry’s side, his eyes locked onto his mother’s until he came to a halt. When he looked at Harry his eyes widened in shocked and a moment later they narrowed with suspicion.  
  
“Potter,” Malfoy whispered, as a Ministry official held out a quill for him to sign the papers with.  
  
“That’s Master Potter to you.”

  


***

  


Potter’s house was filthy. It was also the Black family home but Draco found himself less inclined to care about that the more he saw just how dilapidated the residence was. After they arrived Potter had escorted him to a bedroom down the hall from his own. It was not small but it was almost as filthy as the rest of the house was. It reeked of dust and dirt and Draco could see traces of Salazaar knew what stained on the floorboards. He worked his jaw discreetly and stepped into the room to get a look at the bed. The sheets were moth eaten and mouldy and he feared what the bare mattress would look like.  
  
“Am I really expected to live in here?” he asked. He could do it, he knew he could, but moving from one area of detritus to the other was not appealing. The Manor had been in a rubbish state since the Dark Lord had claimed it as his headquarters, the Ministry had kept the Death Eaters in a prison he was sure violated health regulations, and now this.  
  
“It’s only three months, Malfoy. You can handle it,” said Potter. “Now, you can put the few things they allowed you in your room while I tell you what you’ll be doing first. I’ve got some Doxycide and I can spell your coveralls so that the Doxies won’t be able to bite you, and you’ll need to fumigate the house. I’ll be out but there’s food in the fridge if you’d like and Kreacher keeps the kitchen in a good state. He can show you how to work the stove.”  
  
“Doxies,” he said. Potter was mad. How in Merlin’s name did Potter let the place become this run down? Moreover, how did the house elf let it become like this?  
  
“Doxies. Problem, Malfoy?” Potter asked, looking as if he did not ask Draco to rid the entirety of his house of Doxies, the venomous little vermin.  
  
 _Of course there’s a problem, Potter._ “Not at all,” he said. He had gotten used to doing things he did not want to during the war, carrying out absurd requests, putting aside his dignity. He could rid a house of Doxies if he had to. And he had to. Potter had paid for ownership of him for three months after all.  
  
“Good. You’ll start tomorrow –and watch out for boggarts. There are... well a lot of them really. Now, I’ll show you to the kitchen and the bathroom and you should be set.”

  


The next morning Draco was up early, well he would have had to have fallen asleep for that to be true. He had spent most the night trying to find somewhere suitable to sleep in his room. He was not going to use that bed. He had thrown the sheets into a corner, tossed the pillows aside and examined the mattress. He had been correct in thinking that the mattress itself would be in a dreadful state. He had then hoisted it up, dragged it to one side of the room and leaned it against a wall that he had moved furniture away from. After that he had huddled all of the furniture before the mattress and covered them with the sheets so that he could have floor space on the other side of the room.  
  
He then checked the sturdiness of the bed itself and it seemed stable enough. He pushed the bed around so that one side would be against a wall, he would lay a cloak on it and then sleep there. When he finished moving the bed he saw serpentine flames coming from underneath it. Fiendfyre. It surged towards him and he stumbled back before noticing a hand reaching towards him, as if someone was clawing their way out. Draco froze the moment he realized whose hand it was, his mother’s. By now she was visible and she was _burning_ and in agony, her skin searing and her flesh as well. Then his mother’s form changed into his father’s and Draco choked back a sob. _Boggart_ , he thought, but that did not stop him from _feeling_ what he was watching. His heart felt as if it was being crushed and ripped out of his chest and his throat felt as though someone was constricting it. He curled his knees up to his chest, not quite knowing when he had sunk to the ground, and bowed his head. He was wandless so what could he do? Potter was asleep and after the last two years he had learned not to harass someone in their slumber. The other Death Eaters had not taken kindly to disturbances. So he sat there and he waited, chanting in his mind that it was only a boggart that was before him and ignoring the nearly real smell of burning flesh and sounds of tortured screams.  
  
At some point during his rocking on the floor it struck him that he could wait out the night in the hallway and then opted to do just that. After a while the tears stopped and his hands no longer trembled. Long after that the sun had begun to rise and leak sunlight into the hallway.

  


***

  


Harry stretched as he walked to the bathroom but paused when he saw Malfoy sitting in the hallway. The man looked as if he was asleep. Harry was swiftly proven wrong though, as Malfoy’s eyes snapped open and locked onto Harry almost instantly. The man’s body straightened and he had an unusual awareness about him.  
  
“Don’t like beds?” he asked flatly. He knew the room was not the best in the house. It was dusty and grimy and he needed to throw a few cleaning charms its way, but one night should not have been so difficult to withstand that Malfoy would rather sleep in the corridor.  
  
“Boggart in the room,” Malfoy replied, as he got up. He still wore the coveralls he came in and the way it swallowed him reminded Harry vaguely of having only Dudley’s old clothes to use as his own. Malfoy looked horrendous.  
  
Harry sighed and redirected himself to the room he had given Malfoy. “Where?”  
  
“Bed.”  


  
Sure enough there was a boggart under the bed. Harry knew that the moment he saw an image of Teddy lifeless on the floor. He banished the boggart and after casting a few quick cleaning charms he exited the room, giving Malfoy a nod before heading to the bathroom to shower, Harry not once wondering what form the boggart took for Malfoy, or how long he had endured it.

  


Near the end of Harry's breakfast Malfoy came downstairs and went to fix himself a cuppa before sitting down and taking some toast and jam. He wore a long sleeved shirt and a pair of trousers as well as some socks. His hair was less messy than when Harry bought him but still more of a mess than he could recall ever seeing during Hogwarts.  
  
After breakfast he charmed Malfoy’s clothes so that the Doxies could not bite him through them and cast a Bubble-Head Charm so that the man would not inhale the Doxycide. Once that was done Harry left the house to visit Andromeda, and then later on, to visit the Weasley’s.

  


***

  


Draco’s arms and shoulders hurt. He had fumigated the bottom floor and was halfway through the second. The Doxies were in nearly every curtain he came across, as well as a variety of other places. He rolled his shoulders to relieve the tension in his muscles and closed his eyes in an effort to stop himself from swaying. He was hungry.

It was the middle of the night and Draco had managed to convince Kreacher to remove the Bubble-Head Charm from his person. He was in the kitchen having some tea, after having to fiddle with the Muggle stove contraption, and had settled for eating an egg and toast. He fared a lot better than he had expected to in terms of actually frying the egg. He was surprised he had even managed to _use_ the stove. The elf had to tell him how to operate it of course, and it took him several attempts.  
  
He sat back and closed his eyes, wondering how his parents were doing at the moment. His mother had been bought off by Blaise and would be treated more than graciously. He had no clue where his father was though, and Draco felt his chest constrict at the thought of just how many people wanted Lucius dead and how many of them had just had the opportunity to buy him. He sighed and finished his meal half-heartedly before heading to the loo.

  


He was clean and he was less tense than he felt a moment earlier, though still tense enough. Draco spat into the sink and then rinsed his mouth clean of the toothpaste. He heard movement downstairs and assumed that Potter had returned home. He took in a deep breath and gathered all the emotional discipline he had acquired during Occlumency training before dressing and leaving the loo. When he came out of the bathroom Potter had just made it up the stairs. Something was off though. The moment the other man got near enough to him he knew what it was. Potter was drunk. He reeked of alcohol. Potter had also pinned Draco to the wall with a flick of his wand. Tonight felt as if it would be another long one.  
  
"Why'd you have to do it, Malfoy?" Potter hissed at him. Draco had to reprimand himself for wondering what it would be like to hear the man speak parseltongue. " _Why_ did you have to let them in? Do you know how many people died because of that? Because you helped him, because you did _nothing_ to try and stop him."  
  
He gave Potter no reply. He knew all the motives behind what he had done and why he had done it. He also knew that many lives were lost and families torn apart because his actions gave the Dark Lord enough leverage to move forwards. Once Hogwarts had been taken over one of the brightest beacons of hope the Wizarding world had left had been put out. To make matters worse the impenetrable fortress had been infiltrated by a mere _boy_. He was a catalyst and he knew it, but he had done it not just for himself but for his family, not that it served them much good at the moment. Most times he was sick with the guilt of it. That and all the other unthinkable things he had done, forced or not.  
  
"Do you know how many people I lost? How many people that were close to me whose corpses I watched lying on the ground, broken and bloodied?" Potter yelled, while his hands fisted Draco's shirt. "Remus, Tonks, Fred."  
  
Draco did not look at him, he could not. Not with the guilt and the hate and the disgust that bubbled inside of him. Guilt for what he had done and caused, hate for the cowardice inside of him, disgust at just how pathetic he was and that he had once been foolish enough to believe in all those things he now found revolting.  
  
"Do you know how many of our classmates and friends died in that war?" the other man screamed at him.  
  
He closed his eyes. Of course he knew.  
  
"For fuck's sake, Malfoy, say something! _Say_ something! Or you could at least have the decency to look at me!" Potter yelled, before he stepped back from him and waited for a response. Once he realized Draco would say nothing he spoke in a softer, dangerously aggravated tone, "Part of me wanted to think that you had refused to identify me because you had a conscience and knew that nothing good would have come from it. But you don't do you? You're just a scared little boy who doesn't care for anyone but himself." And then Potter struck him across the face. Part of him wondered what had taken so long.  
  
Draco’s head snapped to the side painfully and there was a throbbing where the fist had connected with his cheek bone. He looked at Potter, who stood before him with anger in his eyes. "I didn't peg you for a violent drunk... Master Potter" he said, knowing full well that he should have kept the thought to himself. Perhaps he was a glutton for punishment.  
  
Potter lunged forwards, his hand grabbing Draco’s neck tightly, "Don't stand there and judge me after all the things you've done," Potter spat. He backed away and surprisingly did not strike Draco again. The man huffed and swore as he turned to go to his room. Draco kept his eyes to the ground. He reckoned he would stay there until morning. Perhaps it would have helped if he had maintained the obedience he had acquired while at the Manor.

  


***

  


His head was pounding. Harry groaned and rolled out of the bed before fumbling around for his glasses and summoning a hangover potion. He downed the contents and cursed himself for imbibing so much alcohol. He had gone over to the Weasley’s and told Ginny that he thought it was too soon for him to decide whether or not he thought resuming their relationship was what he really wanted, though what he really wanted to say was that he was possibly gay and needed to figure that out, before having a drink, well a number of drinks, with Ron. He was not quite sure what happened after that but he was home and he was uninjured so he reckoned everything was fine.  
  
Harry scratched his head as he went to fetch some clothes before heading to the shower. He vaguely wondered how much of the house the spoiled prat managed to fumigate yesterday. When he stepped out his room though all he could wonder was why Malfoy was magically pinned to the wall near the bathroom. As had happened the previous day Malfoy heard him and looked his way, though this time those grey eyes looked a fair bit emptier.  
  
“Would you like to have another go at me?” Malfoy asked tiredly.  
  
Harry wondered what the man was talking about.  
  
“Don’t remember? Were you that drunk? I’m actually offended that you forgot the rather valid diatribe you gave me last night. I reckon I deserved the punishment though, all things considered.”  
  
“ _What_?” he asked, as he went to get a good look at Malfoy. The man's face was bruised. “Ah...” Had he really been that pissed?  
  
“My apologies. I’m a bit out of sorts. Could you let me down, please? I need to use the loo.”  
  
Harry frowned at the change of tone but nodded and released Malfoy from the spell. The man stumbled before he caught his balance.  
  
What the fuck did he do last night?  
  
He watched as the blonde rubbed his wrists and trudged to the bathroom. His muscles were probably stiff from being pinned to the wall all night. Harry sighed and went to use the loo downstairs. When he caught a glimpse of a curtain in the library however he went and examined it. Malfoy had done a fairly good job getting rid of the Doxies. As he headed to the loo he wondered once more how far along the bloke had gotten yesterday.

  


For breakfast Harry asked Kreacher to make him sausages and eggs, along with some toast. He was nearing the end of his meal when Malfoy came inside, his hair dripping onto his shoulders and clinging to the sides of his face. He wore a deep blue jumper and black trousers. The blonde went over to the hob and set a frying pan down before turning it on. Harry reckoned Kreacher had told him how to use it, despite the fact that the elf absolutely _hated_ the appliance. Malfoy fried himself an egg and made some toast while Harry sat and watched.  
  
Once he finished cooking Malfoy made to leave the kitchen but Harry stopped him. He would eat in the kitchen for all his meals. Harry did not want crumbs and bits of food lying around the house. There were already enough magical pests about, no need to attract the usual ones as well. Malfoy sat reluctantly at the table and ignored Harry as he ate, rather slowly at that.  
  
“How much of the house do you have left to fumigate?” he asked, when Malfoy was half-way through his egg sandwich. The man managed to make eating look like a task.  
  
The blonde finished chewing his food and swallowed before he replied. “I have half of the second floor and the entire third floor left.”  
  
“Right, well, once you’ve finished with that I want you to scrub the floors. They seem a bit resistant to cleaning spells,” he said. Truth be told, if he had not bought Malfoy _he_ would have been cleaning the floors. Harry did not particularly want to have to go through the painstaking task of doing that, not considering the surface area he would have to cover, the stress the past year had put on him and how bloody often the Dursley’s had made him scrub their ruddy house clean.  
  
Malfoy looked as if he was expecting the extra work and nodded in acknowledgment before returning to his meal.  
  
“Verbal responses would be appreciated,” he said, knowing Malfoy would read it as the command that it was. He had had no intention of having the man spend a night stuck to a wall but that was done and Harry would move on and try to avoid lashing out like that again. That did not mean he would soften the way he treated the Malfoy though.  
  
He rose from his seat and stretched. “I’ll have Kreacher cast the necessary spells on you once you’ve finished eating. And I rather hope you don’t take as long with that half as you did the first. You have a fair amount of work to do.” With that said Harry went and fetched his things, gave Kreacher his instructions and headed off to visit Andromeda before he went to the Ministry. They were holding trials for those suspected of aiding the Death Eaters and he wanted to speak up for Xenophilius Lovegood.

  


***

  


Draco rolled his shoulders as he paused in his fumigating. His limbs were aching from both the labour of the previous day and the position he had held for the night. He closed his eyes and shook his head to bring himself back to awareness. He had begun to stare off into space. Draco resumed his work, spraying the Doxicide and then collecting the creatures that fell, paralyzed. He rather unwisely let his thoughts wander as he worked.  
  
After what happened the previous night he had thought long and hard about how he should behave while living with Potter. While he was in no way going to be subject to some of the things the Dark Lord had done -things he could hardly recall at times because of how deeply he had buried them- he was still going to suffer some sort of ill treatment. He was living with Potter after all, his long time rival and the one who had the Dark Lord looming over his entire life. Draco doubted the man could have come out of that unscathed. The way he had nearly killed Draco in sixth year was proof enough of that, not to mention what had happened the previous night.  
  
So he had decided to reinforce his walls. They had begun to weaken once the Dark Lord was defeated. They should not have, he knew, but his greatest threat had been handled and the natural reflex to hold them there had died down a great deal. So now Draco would once again lock away his complaints, his emotions and his pride as best he could. There would always be an instance when he slipped up, there always was, but for the most part he would survive his new master the way he had the last. He would shut down as best he could. He would do what he was told. He would ask no questions.  
  
Draco could admit that he had slipped up in the hallway earlier that morning when he had seen Potter- _I should think of him as Master Potter if I’m going to revert to that mentality_. But from now on he would maintain his calm and simply complete his tasks as told. At least he would not have to torture anyone and pretend he could stomach it, when really he was squirming in his bones. He quickly shoved those memories to the back of his mind. They would do him no good.

  


Not even half way through the third floor Draco began to feel the beginnings of hunger in his stomach. He sighed to himself as he swung a closet door open. He would eat once he was-  
  
Flames leapt at him in the shapes of snakes and dragons. He leapt back, tripping over his foot and falling to the ground as he yelled in fright. Once again he was face to face with his parents as they burned in front of him. Another boggart then, but this time both his parents were visible at once. His father barked at him to save his mother while she reached out for him. It had to be more than... more than one...  
  
 _Just boggarts._

His parents were _burning_.

_Not really there_.

They were _screaming_ at him.

_Mother’s safe at Blaise’s. She’s..._

She was wailing.

_I don’t know where father is... He could be..._

He was searing.

  


He tried to get up, to leave, to flee down the stairs. He could not. His parents flanked him and so did the fire. He sat there trembling as he curled into himself. Tears burned his eyes and he shut them tight. His parents carried on asking him for help even though there was nothing he could do to help them. He covered his ears.

  


He muttered apologies.

  


He begged for forgiveness.

  


***

  


Harry sighed as he left the club with Ron and Hermione. A good few weeks had passed since he had broken things off with Ginny and while he had not told his friends about his extremely probable homosexuality, he was looking for ways to explore it. He had one major problem though.  
  
His fame.  
  
The fact that the war had ended a little over two months ago did nothing to help that either. He had been steadily receiving more attention as the days went by.  
  
The papers would print articles about him whenever he went out. For instance, all the trials he spoke at, or simply sat in on, had been on the front of every newspaper but the Quibbler. If he went shopping in Diagon Alley he was subject to flashes from cameras and requests for autographs or hugs. A few people even _proposed_ to him. He had no privacy except within his own home, and then only Kreacher and Malfoy happened to be there and they were not exactly what he would consider options. Well, Kreacher was not. Malfoy, perhaps, was useful. Maybe Harry could find some way to utilize him for something other than just household chores.

  


When he went home he headed straight for the blonde’s room. He knocked on the door and went inside, because really the knock was just a courtesy. Malfoy was already sitting up when Harry spotted him. His hair was mussed and his shirt was crumpled but his eyes were lucid, as if he had not been asleep. Lucid as the man’s eyes were though, they were lifeless. They had been that way since some time after the wall incident. At first he had found it odd not to see that hateful glint in the man’s eyes, or hear the various quips he used to give, but with all the excess attention Harry had, he found the indifference rather tolerable.  
  
“Good, you’re up,” he said, as he turned on the lights. Malfoy winced and blinked as his eyes adjusted to the sharp change in light. “I’ve got something I want you to do for me.”  
  
“Yes, Master Potter?” the man replied, as he swung his legs over the bed. Harry had even gotten used to being called Master. Hermione did not quite like it.  
  
“Stay there would you,” he said, as he walked over. He took a seat beside the man. “Now, just... just stay there, okay?”  
  
Malfoy nodded and repeated his original response, but this time as an affirmative.  
  
“Right,” Harry mumbled, as he shifted closer to the man.  
  
Looking at Malfoy now, Harry could see that he was tired and still too thin, if not more thin. He was not sure. His eyes were hollowed and his skin had pallor. The man probably needed to get some sun, and food, maybe some rest. Harry briefly wondered how he had not noticed that before but then forgot about all that when his eyes landed on the man’s lips, chapped though they were.  
  
He licked his lips and leaned in slowly, more for himself than Malfoy, and tentatively pressed his lips to the blonde’s. Malfoy did not move. Harry pulled back and concentrated on how he felt. He was nervous, but that was normal. He had been nervous since he had sat on the bed. He leaned forwards once more and kissed the man again, lightly, slowly. Apart from being chapped, the man's lips were no different than a girl’s.  
  
“Kiss me,” he said quietly, between his kisses. If Malfoy just sat there this would be pointless.  
  
Harry nearly told Malfoy to kiss him again before the man finally moved his lips. Harry felt a small flutter in his stomach as he thought to himself, _I’m kissing a bloke_. He abruptly pulled back at the sensation.  
  
"Have I done something wrong, Master Potter?" Malfoy asked.  
  
"No," he said. He leaned in again and pressed their lips together. "Carry on."  
  
He tilted his head to get a better angle and wet Malfoy’s lips with his tongue before he began to explore the man’s mouth. Malfoy sat there and kissed him back and took whatever he gave him, and rather well at that.  
  
Once he was satisfied with the experiment Harry pulled back and licked his lips. Malfoy watched him with parted lips but said nothing. Harry was glad for that. He nodded and got up, not quite sure what to do with himself, then headed for the door. Before he turned the lights off and left, he turned back to the man.  
  
“That’ll be all, Malfoy,” he said. “And, I’ll be adding that and more to your chores... How do you feel about that?”  
  
“... Sex is sex,” the blonde said.  
  
And with that Harry nodded and left, to go to his room.

  


***

  


It had been four days since Master Potter had come to Draco’s room and snogged him. Why? Draco had no idea and he did not quite care. But from the familiar hesitance and mix of emotions he had seen in the other man, he reckoned Master Potter was trying to explore his sexuality. Needless to say, Draco had already done that with Blaise. So when his owner had walked in and he had to go from scrubbing the floor to snogging him he was not fussing over the fact that it was a man holding him. What irked him was that it was Potter and that the man had _asked_ him how he would feel about the new additions to his chores rather than allowed Draco to carry on with the notion that Master Potter had turned into a cold and vindictive person who did not give a shit about how he felt. It would be harder for him to keep himself closed off if he was shown kindness, no matter how little. That was how dreadfully deprived he was.  
  
So now he was sitting in Master Potter’s lap as he snogged the man. He was not bad, and part of Draco had been yearning for some sort of sexual contact with another human being for quite some time. The war had not exactly done any wonders for him in that area. But it made him squirm uncomfortably having Master Potter’s hands on his hips. In actuality Master Potter’s hands were not the problem. He had meant it when he said sex was sex and he was closed off enough not to care too much that he was practically the man’s personal escort.  
  
What bothered him was the current state of his body. He was too thin and looked too worn. He saw the glance Master Potter had cast him when the man felt the sharpness of his pelvis. He had tried to eat more frequently but half the time he did not want to venture outside of his room if he did not need to, or he would promise himself to go right after he finished the task he was focused on at that moment but would never actually go. At least three times now he had nearly fainted but managed not to.  
  
Master Potter kissed at Draco’s neck and he nearly gasped at the sensations he was no longer used to feeling. He felt a shiver run down his spine and lightly held the man’s head against his neck. He had to remember that he was in no way in control of what would happen so he refrained from taking any sort of definitive action. The man took Draco’s other hand and guided it down to his jeans, where Draco could feel a bulge that was not a result of a bent zipper. He took it for what it was and began to palm Master Potter through his jeans. The man paused to undo the clothing and pulled out his half erect cock. Draco swallowed at the sight of it and felt a burning inside him that he had not realized was still there.  
  
“Go on,” Master Potter said, a trace amount of anxiety to his voice. He swallowed and nodded at Draco.  
  
He wrapped his fingers around it and felt it twitch in his hold. He squeezed and stroked slowly. His hands were dry from the cleaning agent that he used to scrub the floor with. “Lubricant,” he said.  
  
“Wh- Oh. _Accio_ lube,” Master Potter mumbled, as he flicked his wand. He caught the bottle that flew at him and handed it to Draco.  
  
He poured some into his palm and set the bottle down. He was not sure how long it had been since he had last done this but he had not exactly been feeling comfortable enough with himself to even have a wank, as he would always lose interest. So it had been quite some time. He let some of the lube in his palm drip onto Master Potter’s cock before he took hold of it and began to stroke and pull. He massaged the head and Master Potter groaned and lay back onto the floor. Draco slid his hand down to the base and then began to make long and slow pumps. He paused to thumb Master Potter’s slit before he began pumping his hand in twisting strokes. He applied the most pressure to the head of the man's cock and tried to gauge which motions were causing the best reactions.  
  
Master Potter was bucking his hips and gasping and then Draco slid his other hand to the man's balls. He felt them tighten in his grasp, he felt the cock pulse, and he saw the cum spurting onto his owner’s stomach and all over his hand. He gave a few more strong pulls, milking the man. He continued to massage him lightly until he was told otherwise and sat there semi-aroused and waiting for further instructions.  
  
The other man cleaned himself and Draco’s hand and told him that he could resume his original task. Master Potter motioned for Draco to get off his lap and he moved to do just that before his head swam, his world tilted and his vision blurred as he stumbled back to the floor.

  


***

  


So, Malfoy had fainted after giving Harry one of the best wanks of his life. He was not quite sure whether or not he should feel insulted but he was sure that he should do something in the meanwhile. Perhaps call Hermione... who was spending the day with her parents... or Molly. He could call Molly. He tugged his pants and trousers up and made sure not to look as if he had just done anything remotely sexual before he floated Malfoy to the couch in the front room. They were on the first floor after all. Harry set him down carefully. He went over to the fireplace and tossed in some floo powder and called The Burrow. Wars and violence he could handle. Injuries, illness, not so much...  
  
“Hullo,” Ron said from the other side of the flames. “Oh Harry, hey.”  
  
“Hey,” he nodded quickly. “Is Molly home?”  
  
“Yeah... she is,” Ron responded, frowning. The red head turned and hollered for his mother to come to the floo. “What do you need Mum for? You tried cooking and had it explode on you?”  
  
“No, I didn’t,” Harry said sternly. “I can actually cook, Ron. You’d know that if you tried it sometime. Anyway Malfoy’s-”  
  
“Harry, dear?” came Molly’s voice. Ron bustled out of the way and allowed her to take his place in front of the hearth. “Is there something you need? I saw you eyeing my shepherd’s pie recipe the other day and I'd be-”  
  
“It’s not about that, though I do want it, yes,” he started. “I –well you see... Malfoy’s fainted and I’m not quite sure what to do...” he said slowly.  
  
Molly frowned and looked about to say something before she nodded and stood. “I’m going to floo over, dear. Best you get out of the way,” she said.  
  
“Uh, yeah,” he muttered, as he stood. In the background he could hear Ron muttering things about how Malfoy caused trouble no matter what they did. Right now Harry quite agreed with that. Not a few minutes ago though, then he was thinking that Malfoy had hands imbued with magic and could do no wrong.  
  
The fireplace roared and Molly stepped out of it dusting soot from her clothes. Ron came in almost right after her, no doubt curious about what was going on and more than willing to see the ex-Death Eater in any sort of vulnerable situation. Harry hoped they did not ask too many questions.  
  
“Well then, where is he?” she sighed. She may not want to help Malfoy but Harry reckoned her maternal instincts still saw the blonde as somewhat of a boy. Harry rather thought that after the war they were all pretty much adults now.  
  
“Over here,” he said, as he went over to the couch where Malfoy lay breathing shallowly. Molly stopped before she was beside the couch and gave the man a one over, frowning as she did so. She stepped up beside him and cast a few spells. Harry and Ron simply stood there watching.  
  
“Has he been eating, Harry?” she asked, without looking at him.  
  
“Uh... I would assume so. We don’t generally eat around the same time,” he replied.  
  
“He’s so frail,” she murmured. Harry was not sure if he imagined the hint of pity in her voice.  
  
“He’s been like that ever since I bought him at the auction,” Harry said.  
  
“I wish we could find some other way to refer to it. Buying someone sounds...” Molly tutted and shook her head. “Anyway, he’s just fatigued and malnourished from what I can tell. Do you know what he was doing when it happened?”  
  
When she asked that Harry hoped his face was not turning pink. He could hide his emotions at times but not when he was standing in front of Molly Weasley. “He was cleaning I think,” he lied. Unless emptying Harry’s balls was considered cleaning.  
  
“Harry’s got Malfoy helping him clean up Grimmauld,” Ron supplied. “So, what now?” he asked, as he gestured to Malfoy.  
  
“Well, firstly,” she said, turning to Harry and holding his eyes, “we need to get him some nourishment. I’ve got some potions at home. He also needs _rest_ , Harry, so no chores for a while. He needs to start eating properly, and sleeping as well.”  
  
“You can’t expect me to monitor all this,” he pointed out. For Merlin’s sake, Harry was not supposed to be babysitting the man. He was supposed to put him to work, of all sorts.  
  
“I reckon Malfoy can sort himself out at the end of summer,” Ron said. “No need for us to do all the work for him. Working for Harry is how Malfoy pays back his reparations. It’s not vacation time.”  
  
“How long will he be like this?” Harry asked.  
  
Molly sighed and folded her arms. “You know if it were last year I reckon you boys wouldn’t be so heartless,” she mused. “It’s a pity you had to live through a... a war.”  
  
“Mum,” Ron said softly, “Don’t start with that now. You couldn’t have done anything to keep us out of it.”  
  
“I know... I just...” she took a breath and dabbed at the corner of her eye.  
  
“How long until Malfoy’s in better shape?” Harry asked gently.  
  
“It’ll take him a while to get back to full health but with potions and attention he should start feeling a lot better in about two weeks. That’s doesn’t mean you can put him to work then, Harry, just that he’ll be making noticeable progress by then.”  
  
“All right,” he conceded. “I won’t.”  
  
“I’ll go get those potions and give you the instructions. If you need any help you can floo,” she said, before she went back to The Burrow.  
  
“She’s been coddling everyone and looking for people to take care of ever since... Fred,” Ron said quietly.  
  
“I know,” he said. He turned and looked towards the couch, “I reckon it extends to Malfoy as well.”  
  
“Godric knows why.”

  


***

  


When Draco came to he was lying in bed and he could hear the shuffling of feet and the murmur of voices that soon became louder once his senses cleared. He listened carefully and managed to identify Master Potter and someone that sounded familiar, though not in a particularly good way. He resigned to feigning sleep until he felt less out of sorts. It was something he had become fairly adept at during the war. Sleep a little longer and he could put off seeing his Aunt Bella. Sleep a little longer now and he could put off seeing Master Potter and whoever else was in the room.  
  
“About how long do you think he was out before you found him, Harry dear?” said a woman. The owner of the voice he could not place.  
  
“Uh, not long I reckon,” Master Potter said. The man had clearly told some sort of lie to whomever he was speaking to. “I heard a thud and went to see what the commotion was.”  
  
“Hmm,” the woman hummed. “Well, I’ve got to go finish making dinner. Floo if anything happens, all right?”  
  
“I will, Molly. Don’t worry. And yes I’ll keep in mind that he’s in no shape to be put to work.”  
  
Oddly enough, he did not feel in any way phased that the Weasley woman had probably nursed him back to some semblance of health. He reckoned that he was grateful she got rid of his mad Aunt Bella, morbid as that was. Once he heard her leave, Master Potter supposedly following her out, he opened his eyes and sat up. He was in his room, which looked a fair bit cleaner, and a number of nourishment potions were on the table beside him. Draco reckoned he should have eaten earlier.  
  
With a twitch of his brow, he let the regret pass. There was nothing he could do about it now so why bother to think about it. He got out of bed and made his way to the loo so he could empty his bladder. Once he was finished and had proceeded to his room he came across a very displeased Master. He waited for his scolding.  
  
“Are you trying to kill yourself while in my home, Malfoy?” Master Potter spat at him. “Because really, that’s the only justification I can use to even begin to fathom why you’re starving yourself. It’s not as if I’ve put food restrictions on you. I haven’t. I might over work you, I’ll admit that. Not even might, I do. But I’m not here starving you. Well? Why haven’t you been eating?”  
  
“I have been eating, Master Potter,” he responded. It was true, he had. It was not as if he went out of his way to starve himself. It just sort of happened. Truth be told, Draco thought he was eating _more_ than he had been before coming here. All the manual labour was causing him to burn it up faster was all.  
  
“I’m sorry if your fainting from fatigue and _malnourishment_ has falsely led me to believe that you aren’t eating,” the man said sarcastically. “From now on, you’re eating properly. And you’re taking nourishment potions to quicken things along. This isn’t St. Mungo’s, Malfoy. I’m not here to be your caretaker. Do it. Those instructions override your chores at the moment.”  
  
He agreed to Master Potter’s not so ridiculous demands and part of him had the insane thought that regulating his diet was going to be more work than all the household chores he had been doing.  
  
“And Malfoy,” Master Potter called once Draco was half way to his room. “You’re good at potions, aren’t you?”  
  
“I am,” he admitted.  
  
“Since you can’t do any of the housework, I’ll have you help me prepare for my Potions NEWTs,” the man said.  
  
Draco nodded and went to his room. He rather thought ridding the house of doxies would be easier than teaching Potter Potions. He recalled their classes together and thought the task impossible. He would not complain though. He did not have a say in the matter.

  


***

  


All right, so maybe having Malfoy teach him Potions was not the best idea Harry had ever had. For one, the theory behind it was far too convoluted for him to grasp easily. What did it matter if something was crushed to a paste in the mortar instead of diced until it formed a paste? How was it possible that one extra turn of the rod would have catastrophic results? Why did it matter whether or not a cauldron was cleaned manually or with magic? Harry liked having flexibility and freedom. All the rules and restrictions in potions were not something he could do well with.  
  
Then there were the various _texts_. The books were _tomes_. A "light read" was the size of a Muggle bible that had _both_ testaments in it. One book could be about a single ingredient, its various types (if it was a plant or something that had varying species), how it has been treated, how it is chopped, ground, steamed, boiled and Merlin knew what else. Where the bloody hell did Snape and Malfoy find the _time_ to sit and read these? The Potions Master had probably been pasty because he had spent all his time reading in the dungeons when he had not been playing double agent.  
  
Harry wondered briefly if Malfoy had known that about Snape.  
  
The other reason was that Harry would get distracted by the man's hands every now and then. He would watch them and want them on his cock instead of whatever it was the man was touching.  
  
"You aren't reading anymore, Master Potter," Malfoy said from across the table. The man was attempting to eat some oatmeal but Harry reckoned that with how long the man was taking the food was cold and slimy by now.  
  
"And you aren't eating," he said. "It's replaced your chores, Malfoy, but it needn't look like one. Eat or I'm going to have Kreacher force feed you."  
  
The man stared at the food for a moment and then reluctantly set about his task. Harry sighed and dipped his quill in some ink before he went back to studying. How Malfoy made eating seem like such a chore, he would not understand. He also doubted he would understand how the man had managed to begin viewing it as a chore in the first place. Harry enjoyed food. He savoured his meals and he tried not to waste it. If it was too much to finish that day then he could eat it the next. If he was hungry and there was no meat in the house, well, there was always flour and baking powder so he could make biscuits or he could have some toast if there was bread. There was no reason to go hungry and no reason to _want_ to go hungry. Hunger was a dreadful thing.  
  
"Master Potter, you still aren't reading," Malfoy said.  
  
Harry looked up and saw that the man had actually finished his food. He had half a mind to have Malfoy make notes for him and then he could go over them instead of reading this tome of a book. He had one more to go after this and then they would start practical potions practice. They would have to go shopping for ingredients first though. Harry was bollocks at choosing quality ingredients. Everything looked pretty much the same to him.  
  
"Outline the more important sections of the next book while I finish this one," he said. He reckoned that did not count as overworking Malfoy. All the man had to do was read up on a subject he liked.

  


***

  


Draco closed the book he was reading and set the notes he had made on top of it. He was yet to finish his task but he was supposed to eat and rest accordingly and would attempt it. So far eating was going along much better than sleeping was. Never mind that he was retaining fluid and wanted to retch at times, the diarrhoea he could do without though. Since arriving at Grimmauld Place, Draco had not been able to sleep properly. He would rest and he would fall into a sort half slumber. The brief periods of actual sleep that he got were accompanied by memories and nightmares that he would rather avoid. It would probably be best if he took sleeping draughts and small doses of dreamless sleep. The regular dose would work best but his stomach was probably too sensitive to handle it at the moment. He drank one of his nourishment potions instead and tried to sleep.

  


_He was at the Manor and could hear the screams that echoed in the room. He smelled the stench of wet dog. He could hear the snap and crunch of bones. His eyes were forced open and he watched something that he was sure he had seen before. Greyback was there tearing at a girl with his teeth and his claws. Draco could not stand it. Could not stomach it. If he defied the Dark Lord, he knew he would have a similar fate. If it was not Greyback, then it would be Nagini. He was made to watch them feed. They all were, as warning.  
  
He thought about how much her flesh looked like meat and he retch- _

  


A gasp escaped him as he lurched into wakefulness. Draco clamped a hand over his mouth and swiftly made his way towards the bathroom. If he sullied the floor he would likely have to clean it. He swung the door open and mentally scolded himself for the way it slammed against the wall. That would likely wake Master Potter. There was nothing he could do about that now though so he emptied his stomach in the toilet and hoped that his retching was not too loud as he shook and shivered from the remnants of his dream, his memory.  
  
At some point he registered that the other man had come to the bathroom. He had a few dry heaves before his stomach calmed and his coughing stopped. His throat felt dreadful. He sat back and wiped his mouth with his hand. Movement in the small room reminded him of his owner's presence and he flinched when he looked up and saw that Master Potter had his wand out. The man flicked it and muttered a _Tergeo_ before Draco felt his hands and face tingle with magic.  
  
That kindness was fairly unexpected.  
  
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" the man hissed. "I didn't pay fifty galleons to be your private nurse- Medi-Wizard. Get yourself together, Malfoy. Vomitting is not part of your recovery."  
  
"I didn-" he rasped. He swallowed and cleared his throat. "I didn't do it intentionally, Master Potter."  
  
"Oh? Then what the fuck happened, Malfoy?"  
  
"Nightmare," he said, as he got up. He staggered a bit but was fine after a few moments. Master Potter did not reply. He only stared at Draco as if he was trying to figure out whether or not he had lied. Draco took the time to flush the toilet and gargle the taste of sick from his mouth.  
  
When he was finished, Master Potter continued to watch him but said nothing. The man left the loo and muttered at him to go back to sleep. Draco ambled his way to his room and only after he stepped inside did he hear the other man's door click shut.

  


***

  


"Hermione, _why_ in Merlin's name are you here so _early_?" Harry grumbled into his pillow. He had woken up to the continuous call of his name and had seen a stern faced Hermione hovering over him.  
  
"We're going shopping for potions ingredients today, Harry. Ron's already downstairs. It's best we go early so that I have time to explain everything to you as we go along," she explained, as she tossed some clothes at him.  
  
"What?" he groaned. "If you already know you're going to take a ridiculous amount of time explaining every ingredient to us then why didn't you just give us notes or something? Besides, I told you I'm having Malfoy tutor me. He's good at potions. So I can sleep in today."  
  
"You're supposed to be letting him rest, Harry," she scolded. "Now, up. Go get ready. Take him along if you want."  
  
"He can't sleep all day. He has to do _something_. Especially since I have to do all the cleaning now, and Kreacher too. You know you lot could help with that at least," he said.  
  
"Just go and get ready, would you? I'll put on a pot," she said. "And I'll wake Malfoy while I'm at it."  
  
"What for?" he asked around a yawn. He got out of bed and grabbed the clothes she had tossed at him.  
  
"He's your tutor now, isn't he? I don't see any need to explain everything to you if you've already got someone to do it," she said in a mocking tone. "And he hasn't left Grimmauld since being here. I reckon he wants to go outside."  
  
"Hmph," he snorted. "I don't see that going over very well. Whatever. Wake him up."  
  
He walked to the loo and was fairly pleased that Malfoy's bowels had settled and the man no longer occupied it whenever Harry needed to use it. If he had known how absolutely inconvenient this would have been he would have moved the man to the first floor so that they had separate bathrooms, though Molly would have had his head for it since there were no actual bedrooms down there.  
  
He sighed and turned on the tap before he shed his clothes and stepped into the shower. He soaped up and rolled his eyes at the way his cock decided it wanted attention. It had been some time since he had Malfoy service him. Apart from some heavy snogging, he had not asked much more of the man since the fainting incident. He reckoned it was time he got a good wank from him, or maybe something new. He exhaled at the way his hand worked his cock and he thought back to the way it had felt when Malfoy had wanked him, had massaged his balls. He imagined that the blonde had teased at his entrance and slid his finger carefully inside. With a stifled groan he pulsed his pleasure into the shower.  
  
When he went downstairs Ron was nursing a cup of coffee, Malfoy was sitting expressionless at the far end of the table and Hermione was pouring him tea of all things. The man thanked her and both he and Ron frowned at how odd it sounded. Hermione, on the other hand, had a slow smile forming on her face and she was far too sincere when she said "you're welcome". She really had been in too good a mood since finding her parents.  
  
They ate some sausage and eggs with toast and Hermione kept glancing at Malfoy to see if he was eating. Harry rolled his eyes and ignored it. The man had been doing fairly well and had gained a ridiculous appetite once he had started eating again, something Hermione herself had told him would happen, so he did not know why she bothered to keep checking on him. If the man was likely to do anything detrimental to his recovery, Harry thought it would be in private, like when he had found the man retching in the bathroom. Never mind that it was only one instance.  
  
He still was not quite sure if he believed Malfoy's nightmare story.

  


Diagon Alley was practically empty when they arrived. The shops looked as if they had just opened and many of the vendors were still yawning away the remnants of sleep. Harry really wished Hermione was less of a morning person so that he could have stayed in bed. Malfoy tagged along behind him and they all went to the apothecary.  
  
According to the regimen that Malfoy had created for Harry, he needed to buy a few things that Hermione had not included for Ron. He was going to tackle a few first year potions to get himself reacquainted with the subject and probably so that Malfoy could see what he was working with. Then they would move on to more difficult potions as they went along. Harry was also supposed to be practicing his chopping, dicing, slivering, salting and all those preparatory things that were usually done to ingredients. Malfoy had also told him that learning how to cook from a recipe, even though Harry normally followed them a bit loosely, would help but did not outright tell him that he should do it. The man was still very mindful of the fact that Harry was in charge of him and not vice versa, something Hermione thought would make the entire arrangement completely pointless since he could just have the man do most the work if he told him to. Malfoy was not one to talk back to him about anything.  
  
Well, not anymore.  
  
Looking at his list, he went to find the ingredients he needed. The ones for first year potions were not difficult to locate but when he reached the more difficult things Harry found himself fumbling about. He carried what he had gotten to so far over to Malfoy and the man inspected the ingredients. His face gave Harry no clues as to how well or how badly he had done. Harry looked around the apothecary as he waited and smiled when he saw Ron's eyes glazing over as Hermione spoke to him about... bubotuber pus? He was not quite sure what it was in the jar.  
  
"Half of these are incorrect, Master Potter," said Malfoy.  
  
Harry turned back to the man with a frown. "What do you mean incorrect? Those are right. I studied," he complained.  
  
"I didn't mean to imply that you hadn’t studied, Master Potter, but the mistletoe berries aren't supposed to be dry for the Antidote to Common Poisons. You need to buy them fresh at the conservatory," Malfoy explained. "The only instance where you buy dried mistletoe is when you buy the leaves on their own or if you're using the berries in something that isn't an antidote, otherwise it's toxic."  
  
"This Chizpurfle carapace is more damaged than will be useful in any potion. It's difficult to explain what's passable and what isn't so I'll show you when I follow you to recollect these ingredients. Your-"  
  
"Is that the Malfoy brat?" spat a coarse voice. Harry looked up to see a thin man coming from the back room of the apothecary. "Oh, Mr. Potter, good morning. He's not harassing you, is he?" the man said in a ridiculously polite tone. A huge turnaround from when he had seen Malfoy.  
  
"He isn't," Harry said, before turning back to Malfoy and nodding at him to continue.  
  
The man continued with his explanations and then proceeded to show Harry the proper items and ingredients. He identified the things that Harry had neglected to collect because he did not know what they were and he let him chose the ones he thought were correct and then amended the things he had gotten wrong. Harry found it a fair bit easier to remember than all the lectures Hermione and Snape would give. He was less likely to go into a daze this way.  
  
After their time at the apothecary, which took fairly long because of Ron and Hermione, they headed to the conservatory.

  


***

  


Every glance he got was either a sneer or a hateful glare. Draco had known that not nearly enough time had passed for anyone to be able to look at him without remembering what he was or what he had done. He saw the blame in their eyes, the malice, the vicious intent. Passers-by were torn between giving him hateful looks and admiring Master Potter. The change between the two states was so drastic that their eyes would flutter before they went from one extreme to another, from hero worship to unbridled hate. He suspected that the only reason they had not thrown anything at him or hexed him was their fear of hitting Master Potter or one of his friends.  
  
He and the trio had almost managed to complete their trip without incident but then they came across an area of Diagon Alley that was normally somewhat vacant. There he saw a small podium and a sign that said "Hex the Death Eater: Two Knuts" and he froze. Accompanying it was a list of names and times of day that certain people would be available and his surname had caught his eye. Lucius would be here.  
  
"Oi, want to join in, Malfoy?" said a smooth voice.  
  
Draco turned and saw a stern looking witch ambling towards him. He stepped away from her and began to move towards Master Potter and his companions, keeping an eye on her all the while. The man and his companions had not seemed to notice that he had fallen back.  
  
"We've only got one of the three of you," she said. "I reckon that whoever bought you might be willing to offer you up as well. I wonder if you're as proud as he is? Your father. Trying his best to hold it all in when we all know how much it hurts, because we've felt far worse."  
  
He did not reply to her. He had no idea what he would sound like at the moment. It had been some time since he had even whispered his father's name. It had been difficult to even think about his parents after his extended boggart incident. Eventually he had gotten too used to the sight and the sound of it that the creature had miraculously retreated.  
  
The woman's eyes flickered towards the group ahead of him. "Do one of _them_ own you?" she inquired. "That must be interesting. What's it like living with one of the war heroes? Without them you'd be revelling in whatever sick fantasies you had before the end of the war. Still won't say anything to me? Maybe they took your voice, painful thing that. The look on Carrow's face when they ripped his voice from him was priceless. People get creative during these free for alls. "  
  
 _This woman would have made a good Death Eater_ , he thought. The feeling he got from her made him all the more wary.  
  
"Oi, Malfoy," Weasley called angrily.  
  
"Want to hear what's been done to your father?" she asked.  
  
He fought the sudden urge to lash out at her. He was wandless and would not fare well in any sort of fight at the moment. He had neither the magic nor the strength.  
  
"Malfoy, what do you think-" Master Potter started when he neared him. The woman caught his eye and he gave her a quick once-over. "Are you harassing my property?"  
  
"Mr. Potter," she smiled, her eyes too bright. "I was just having a word with him, though he didn't actually talk."  
  
"Well, I've got to get going so the conversation's going to be cut short," the man said. He nodded at Draco to go to Weasley and Granger, and he did. The woman was less likely to hex him now that his owner was between them.  
  
"I was wondering if you'd be interested in that over there, Mr. Potter," she said. "You more than anyone should understand what they put us through."  
  
"... It's not my thing," he heard Master Potter say.

 

***

  


When they got back to Grimmauld that afternoon, Harry had Malfoy show him how to properly store the various ingredients. After the encounter with the witch in Diagon, the blonde had reverted to the same degree of distance he had displayed after the night Harry had charmed him to the wall. That was not to say that the man had been pleasant recently, just that the way he had interacted with Harry was more relaxed. As if he once thought Harry would physically lash out at him for the simplest of things and finally realized that would not happen. What Harry would do was scold him and work him to the bone instead, though adding to Malfoy's workload now meant adding to his own so he would opt for more sexual favours, which Harry did not quite think was taxing in any way.  
  
After putting away the ingredients, Harry turned to the blonde. "Malfoy," he called.  
  
"Yes, Master Potter," Malfoy replied, as he approached him.  
  
"What did that witch say to you?" he asked.  
  
"She was telling me about the Death Eater hexing," said Malfoy. It was minute but Harry thought he saw him wince slightly.  
  
"What about them?" he pressed. He had known all along that the Death Eaters would suffer ill-treatment but he had not expected it to become quite so public. He also had not expected anyone to proposition him about having his own Death Eater participate in something like that. They were vile and most of them deserved it, but after the war he had anticipated that people would want to keep the violence behind doors instead of continuing to live in it.  
  
Malfoy frowned slightly at him before regaining the neutrality he usually kept in his expression. "She spoke of my father and she spoke of wanting me to become a participant. She also spoke of how Carrow's had his voice taken from him," said Malfoy. "I got the impression that it wasn't by means of a silencing charm."  
  
"I'm not all that surprised that Wizarding Britain's gone to shit," he muttered to himself.  
  
Kreacher apparated into the room, a bedroom Harry had turned into a potions lab, and announced that lunch was ready. Harry nodded to the elf and dismissed him as he started for the kitchen, Malfoy close behind. They ate in silence, which was usual, and then Malfoy put the dishes away for Kreacher to wash before they went back to the lab. Harry would be brewing the Cure for Boils potion, a Swelling Solution and Shrinking Solution. He needed to quickly cover the basics and then jump into the meat of it. By the end of the day first to third year potions would have been covered.  
  
Cure for Boils was easy enough to do. He had almost ground the ingredients too finely but the blonde had been keeping an eye on him and had stopped him in time. Now he was letting it steep before completing the rest of the recipe. He had roughly a half hour to kill before he could continue and he wanted to utilize it.  
  
He took a seat on one of the two stools in the room and beckoned for Malfoy to come to him. He pulled the man between his legs and he snogged him. Malfoy's mouth tasted of the scones and clotted cream he had at lunch. The man returned Harry's kiss and let him have his way with him. The blonde never once tried to slip his tongue past Harry's lips or touch him without instruction. Harry pulled away and looked at him.  
  
"Kiss me, Malfoy," he said, after setting a Tempus charm to notify him when his time was up. The blonde leaned in without a word and snogged him. "More," he instructed in between kisses, and a tongue slid along his bottom lip and teeth tugged at it soon after. Malfoy slid his tongue into Harry's mouth and made his way around, tasting, flicking and gliding.  
  
After some time he pulled away panting and said, "Suck me, Malfoy. I want my cock in your mouth."  
  
The man paused and then he got down on his knees. "Yes, Master Potter," Malfoy said, as he undid Harry's trousers.  
  
Fingers wrapped around him and Harry licked his lips in anticipation as he watched Malfoy pull his cock out. He watched the man stroke him and felt the squeezes and the pulls. The blonde sidled closer to the stool and then licked along the underside of Harry's cock, his tongue wet and warm. The man flicked his tongue at Harry's frenulum and then swallowed his head before he began to suck and lave at it, tongue teasing at the slit of his cock. Harry gasped at the feel of it and watched as his cock swelled under the attention until he was fully erect.  
  
Malfoy began to bob his head and work his way down Harry's cock as he stroked the rest of his length. The man managed to keep his teeth well away from the cock in his mouth and his tongue worked in absolutely brilliant ways. Harry groaned at the way he rubbed against Malfoy's tongue and the roof of his mouth, at the heat and the wetness and at the way the man _sucked_ at him. The blonde pulled away and caught his breath. He stroked Harry in the interim and licked at his shaft and his balls as his hand worked. He ran his tongue up Harry's cock and sucked him in once more.  
  
He could not help himself at that point. Malfoy was doing too fine a job. Harry held onto the man's head and began to thrust into his mouth. Malfoy made a muffled sound and pressed his hands on Harry's thighs. He stopped with an effort and pulled out of the man's mouth when he heard a slight choking sound. Once Malfoy was back to normal, he pulled the man's head towards his cock.  
  
"I'll admit you probably weren't ready for that," he said. "Open up, let's give that another go."

  


***

  


Reluctantly, Draco licked his lips and opened his mouth. He curled his lips over his teeth and when Master Potter pulled his head forwards and the cock slid into his mouth, he focused on relaxing his throat and suppressing his gag reflex. It had been ridiculously long since he had deep throated anyone and at the rate this was going it looked as if he would have to.  
  
This time Master Potter thrust carefully into his mouth and allowed him to get used to the intrusion before he picked up the pace. The man began to thrust more quickly and more deeply as time went on and Draco could hear gasps and grunts coming from above him. He swallowed whenever he felt he might gag.  
  
The man pulled out of his mouth and got off the stool before motioning for Draco to open his mouth once more.  
  
"Look at me this time," Master Potter husked, as he prodded Draco's lips with his cock.  
  
"Yes, Master Potter," Draco rasped, before sucking the man in and looking up at him. Master Potter groaned and resumed face fucking him until Draco felt the thrusts becoming more erratic.  
  
"Take all of it in," Master Potter panted. Draco hummed around the cock in his mouth and the man groaned in pleasure and held his cock in place as he felt it.  
  
He slowly worked his way down the rest of the cock until it was rooted all the way in his mouth and into his throat. He swallowed around it and pulled back a bit before going back down and then bobbing his head. He glanced up at Master Potter, remembering the instruction to look at the man and he swallowed and hummed and rolled his tongue. He pulled back and went down again, bobbing his head once more. Master Potter eventually began to thrust into his throat. He felt the man tense, felt the cock in his mouth twitch and pulse and heard a moan escape his owner before hands held his head firmly in place and pulled him impossibly closer, the cock moving further down his throat as he swallowed around it as best he could to hold off his gagging, semen pulsing down his throat. He groaned his discomfort as the man jerked his head so that the cock worked his throat but that only helped in stimulating the man more.  
  
Once his head was released he recoiled and allowed himself to cough and sputter.  
  
"Well fuck," Master Potter breathed, sated.  
  
Draco did not want to admit it but giving head had made him randy, despite how forced that last bit was. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and turned away from Master Potter before he got up. The potion would soon need to be tended to and he needed to focus so he could properly instruct the other man.  
  
Potter cleaned himself up and tucked his cock away before stretching. A few minutes later the Tempus charm went off and they looked at the potion. It needed a few more seconds before it was the right colour and then they could move on to the next steps. Draco told Master Potter to get the other ingredients ready and then the man proceeded to work. Once the man was finished Draco checked the potion.  
  
"It has the right consistency and colour," he said, his voice still a bit raspy. "We can move on to the Swelling Solution now."  
  
"Hold on," Master Potter said, "Is that a bulge I see in your pants, Malfoy?"  
  
Draco froze.  
  
"Well, how about I wank you?" Master Potter said with a grin.  
  
"That isn't necessar-" he started. But then there was a hand moving towards him and he recoiled.  
  
"Malfoy, don't do that," the man instructed. "I want to wank you."  
  
Draco did not say anything and he did not move away again when hands pulled at his trousers. He was pulled forwards and spun around so that his back was against the other man's chest. His trousers and pants were pushed down and a hand wrapped around his cock. He jerked and gasped from the touch and he trembled with anxiety.  
  
It had been far too long.  
  
"Relax would you?" his owner said in his ear. "I want to see what it's like, wanking another man."  
  
"... Yes, Master Potter," he breathed.  
  
The hand stroked him and squeezed at his head, a thumb brushed the slit of his cock. Master Potter gave a twist at the end of his strokes. Draco arched against the man, his head thrown back onto his shoulder and his arse pressing back against his master’s crotch. He stifled a whimper as he shivered and came far too quickly and all over the other man's hand, which continued to milk him.  
  
"Well shit, Malfoy," Master Potter said. "When was the last time you let off a load?"  
  
Draco tried to moved away but the man gave his cock a squeeze and he moaned and bucked his hips despite himself.

  


***

  


Days after Malfoy had given Harry that blow job, he was wanting more. He was trying to focus on the potion he was supposed to be brewing and half listening as Hermione gave some long diatribe about the Death Eater hexing that was going on but his eyes would stray to the blonde's lips or throat and if he caught the man in the middle of a swallow, his train of thought would go into perverse territories. He nearly added too many sunflower seeds to his brew and cursed as they tumbled to the floor. At least they were not in his cauldron.  
  
"Harry, are you even paying attention to what you're doing?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Sort of," he admitted. He really should pay attention though. This potion was not exactly simple. "What were you saying?"  
  
"I was saying that Neville was in Diagon Alley yesterday and he caught sight of the hexing. It's brutal Harry, and it's so _public_ ," she said. "Neville reckons they've been using Dark Magic on them. I hear Carrow’s got no voice and," she glanced at Malfoy briefly, "it's just ridiculous. We can't come out of a war and then carry on like hooligans."  
  
"Have you owled Kingsley?" he asked. He was not quite sure what Hermione expected him to do. He had just defeat Voldemort and finally gotten rid of the dangers that haunted him throughout Hogwarts. Was it really his duty to clean up another mess?  
  
"The Ministry is up to its neck in work right now. They couldn't even bother to properly sentence the bloody Death Eaters, what with all the repairs and welfare they have to handle right now," she said. "Besides, the people are likely to listen to you. They're still in that phase."  
  
"I wish they weren't," he mumbled.  
  
"Well they are."  
  
He was about to shoot her a glare when his cauldron bubbled over and he swore and moved away so that it did not touch him. Merlin knew what he had turned it into. "The fuck did I do wrong?" he hissed.  
  
Hermione shrugged as she peered at the frothing substance and Malfoy moved over to take a look. "You stirred it too quickly and perhaps too often as well," the man said.  
  
He grumbled and vanished the failed potion. "Scrub that out," he said to Malfoy. It had been some time since he had asked the man to do anything that could have counted as actual labour and he reckoned scrubbing a cauldron was not considered to be too much work. It was not as if it was the entire set from potions class.  
  
Malfoy nodded and went to get cleaning supplies as Harry sighed and leaned on the table beside Hermione.  
  
"You could be a little nicer to him you know," Hermione said, as she watched the blonde. "He doesn't seem as if he's been giving any sort of trouble. And I'm sure the war wasn't easy for him either."  
  
"I treat Malfoy just fine," he said. "It's not as if I'm here throwing hexes at him or flogging him or something."  
  
"Sometimes you treat him as if he was Kreacher," she said.  
  
"Well he hasn't complained," he said. Watching as the other man scrubbed away at the cauldron.  
  
"Do you really think he's going to?" Hermione asked. "Because I don't."

  


***

  


After the day of the near incident with the witch from Diagon Alley, there were two things that constantly nagged at Draco. First was the state his father was in. He knew Lucius was alive but he doubt he was well. If people were so openly abusing the Death Eaters it was only a matter of time before they started killing them. He worried less for his mother since she was with the Zabinis but he did miss her. Second was the release he got when Potter had touched him.  
  
Wanking himself had not worked because he would get preoccupied with his body and the way he had felt his bones so close to his skin. He had more flesh on him now that he had to be eating but it would be some time before he was mentally adjusted to that. When the other man touched him, with no concern for the way he looked, he had had no time to even think about his body. Draco had forgotten all his objections when he had felt the warmth and the grip wrap around him and he had lost himself in the sensation, one he had missed more than he had originally thought. It was only after he had climaxed that he remembered himself and his shame.  
  
But now there was no turning back. Before he could ignore the need, but now, now he wanted to feel his balls tighten and his cock pulse. He wanted to feel himself press inside the heat of a man’s arse and he wanted to feel the stretch and the hardness of a cock up his own. Draco waited impatiently for the other man to make a request of him as he continued to tutor him.

  


***

  


The floo roared to life as Harry sat studying by the fireplace. He looked up to see an unusual face in the flames. Trust Malfoy to be in the shower at a time like this.  
  
"Zabini," he said, flatly. "This is a surprise."  
  
"Potter," the man greeted curtly. "It took me quite some time to acquire your floo address."  
  
"What do you want?" he asked. He did not have time to participate in any weird Slytherin political tactics.  
  
"You've got Draco and, as you know, I've got Narcissa," The man said. "She would like to see him, or speak to him, should you permit it." The man paused a moment as if weighing something. "She's worried, especially after all the chatter about Lucius' state. I'm sure you've at least heard whispers."  
  
"I've heard," he confirmed. "Lucius is none of my concern though. As for Malfoy, he's occupied at the moment." Harry would not allow Narcissa to see Malfoy today but he did owe her quite a lot. The entire Wizarding world owed her, so he would allow her to see her son. "I'll allow her to see him though. Tomorrow night, around eight. I'll allow her to floo over. _Only_ her."  
  
Zabini nodded. "I know a good offer when I see one. I'll have her over by then," the man said. "And no worries Potter, I'll keep your floo address safe for you."  
  
With that Harry nodded and closed the floo. He shut it down for Zabini's residence now that there was an open connection. He would allow passage when it was time tomorrow. Before then he needed to prepare and to study. He would send Kreacher away for that night as a precaution. He would never forget how the elf had done Bellatrix's bidding during the war, and he would only open the floo in one of the empty bedrooms upstairs after he warded it. That he would do in the morning. He checked the time and went back to his studies. He would meet Malfoy in the lab in an hour to have a quiz of sorts. He could not wait for this exam to be over with, two more weeks and he would be able to put away the stirring rod. So long as he passed.

  


"Monkswood," Harry said, as he hoped he was right.  
  
Malfoy wrote something down, his face annoyingly unchanging, before moving on to the next question. "The oil from Nux Myristica is used in what potions?"  
  
"... Blood replenishing, potions directed at treating arthritis, um... Mild detox potions," he tried. He could not think of any other uses.  
  
"Damocles Belby is known for what great achievement?" Malfoy asked.  
  
"... He uh... Damocles Belby... um... invented the Wolfsbane Potion!" Harry said with a sudden gesture as he remembered.  
  
"Recite Golpalott's Third Law," Draco said.  
  
"Merlin, uh, the antidote for a blended poison can't simply be created by finding the antidotes to the separate poisons in the blended whole and mixing them together. One must find the single ingredient that acts as a catalyst and combines the blended antidotes into a whole...?" he asked more than said.  
  
"That was the last question," Malfoy said. "You're done with the questions. Now, you have to brew the Girding Potion."  
  
"I get the recipe, right?" he asked, as he moved to the brewing station.  
  
"Yes, Master Potter, you do. You will be provided with the recipe that is asked of you in your exam and I'm following the same standard," Malfoy said, as he placed the parchment on the counter. "You have the moderate amount of time it takes to brew this potion and you may begin," the man checked, let his hand hover over a timer Harry had provided him with, he clicked it on, "now."  
  
Harry glanced over the recipe and collected all the ingredients he would need. He prepared them and then began to start brewing. He fumbled a few times but after the practice he had gotten, most of that happened outside of his cauldron, which meant it had not really affected the brew. By the time he was finished, he was somewhat frazzled but more or less pleased with the result. It was the right colour and consistency from what he could tell.  
  
The alarm went off before Harry remembered to signal Malfoy and he huffed at how close he had come to the deadline. The blonde examined the potion in the cauldron as well as the phial that Harry had poured. The man still was not showing outward signs of Harry's performance and he was beginning to get slightly worried.  
  
"You passed," the blonde said. "You need to work on your theoretical studies and I recommend that you continue to practice brewing within a specified time frame so you don't cut it quite so close next time. Apart from that, you have done well enough to get into the Auror program but you just barely scraped an E. If you work on your theory, specifically advanced theory, then you should be well off. Perhaps touch up on your potions history as well."  
  
"All right," Harry grinned. "Exceeds Expectations, rightfully named."  
  
Malfoy frowned slightly at him, probably because he was not as bothered about nearly getting an A as he should have been. The point was though, that he got the E. He would study and brew some more and then he would go and pass his exam and move on to the Auror Academy. As for right now though, Harry was already on to other things.  
  
With a smirk he stepped forwards and pulled the blonde towards him. Malfoy set aside his papers and Harry thought he saw a small flicker of interest in the man. He snogged him and pressed his body against the other man's, groping his arse as he pulled him closer. Malfoy snogged him and rested his hands on Harry's arms. He would not touch him unnecessarily until prompted.  
  
"On the floor," Harry ordered, and Malfoy lowered himself and lay on his back. Harry lay flush against the man and resumed their snog. "Touch me."  
  
Malfoy slid his hands under Harry's shirt and up his back before sliding them into his trousers and pants. He kneaded the cheeks and Harry rolled his hips forwards. The blonde undid the trousers and pulled Harry's cock out, squeezing as he did so. He stroked and he palmed him as a hand slid up his chest to tweak at a nipple. Harry moaned into the man's mouth and rocked his hips. He broke the snog and exposed his neck for Malfoy to move his attentions there. The man kissed and licked and nipped at him and Harry moaned. Malfoy's hand massaged his balls before sliding back up his cock and running a finger over his slit. He grabbed his wand and rid them both of their trousers and pants.  
  
Malfoy's hand twitched and he froze at his sudden half-nakedness. Harry sat up and shuffled lower before taking hold of the man and pumping his hand over the hardening cock. Harry bent down tentatively and licked at the head and Malfoy twitched in his hand. He did not find the taste it in any way off-putting so he licked along the crown and then from the base of the shaft up to the head. He spread Malfoy a little wider and palmed the man's balls before he bent down to lick at them. He caught sight of the pinched flesh beneath them and stopped.  
  
Harry had had the intention to attempt sucking Malfoy’s cock when he had told him to lie on the floor and then stripped the man of his pants, but he had gotten distracted. He was used to seeing his own cock, so while it was absolutely fascinating to see the bulging erection, thicker and shorter than his own, and the balls that dangled below it, he was not used to seeing an anus. He stared raptly at the rosy pucker.  
  
With a glide of his thumb, he felt the knot of flesh and before he knew what he was doing he had begun to press his thumb inside. Malfoy tensed underneath his touch and his muscles clench. For some reason, rather than getting discouraged, he had found it fairly interesting to watch and to _feel_ the muscles clench around his thumb. If Malfoy had complained he did not hear it, because he was intent on his task and did not quite take note of anything else around him, only the sight of his thumb disappearing as the man stretched and took it in and a feeling of heat and tightness around his thumb.  
  
Once he had buried it inside, he realized that Malfoy had not relaxed and by the looks of it, he was not aroused either.  
  
“Malfoy,” he said. “Relax would you.”  
  
The man glanced at him and swallowed. The muscles around Harry’s thumb relaxed a bit but once he began to move his thumb, they tightened again.  
  
“You know, if you’re uncomfortable just say something,” he said. Hermione was right, the man would not complain to Harry about anything. Not after living in a house with Voldemort.  
  
“You need to use lube,” Malfoy said. Right, Harry had managed to forget that. “Not- Not so fast. Pull it out slowly.”  
  
He nearly apologized but opted for fetching the lube instead. When he came back to the lab, he sat down and popped the bottle open. He paused before squeezing some out because Malfoy looked as if he wanted to say something. “Out with it,” he said.  
  
“Maybe you should let me... show you first,” the blonde suggested.  
  
Harry squirmed and considered it. He was not sure if he quite wanted a finger up his arse as yet but the image flashed in his mind and he handed Malfoy the bottle before lying on his back and slowly spreading his legs. The blonde moved between them and pushed Harry’s knees further apart before squeezing lube onto his fingers. He slathered some onto Harry’s entrance and massaged the area, sliding his fingers over the pucker and down to the cleft before coming back up and teasing him. He placed a hand on Harry’s hip and glanced at him. Harry nodded.  
  
Malfoy pressed a well lubed finger slowly and steadily inside, Harry wriggled at the sensation, it was... odd and it had not quite hurt the way he imagined it would. The blonde waited a few beats before he started moving around inside. He began to pump slowly and Harry found himself enjoying the way the ring of muscles felt as Malfoy did so and then he moaned when a sudden jolt of pleasure ran through him. Malfoy moved more quickly now and repeatedly stimulated the sensitive spot he assumed was his prostate. The man slipped another finger inside and he stopped him then.  
  
“Wait, I want to do you too,” he said. He felt the fingers twitch inside of him before the blonde nodded and knelt over Harry with his back towards him. He tossed Harry the lube and waited.  
  
Harry squeezed some lube onto his fingers. He spread Malfoy’s cheeks with the heels of his palms and ran a finger over the entrance. He watched as it fluttered before he began to massage it with his fingers, rubbing and applying pressure the way he thought Malfoy had done to him. He carefully began to push his index inside and the sight of his finger up the man’s arse made his cock twitch.  
  
He wriggled his finger around a bit. It was so soft and warm inside. He groaned when Malfoy slid his own fingers back inside of Harry and began to pump inside of him. Harry followed the motion. He gasped and moaned whenever his prostate was hit and he searched for the blonde’s. He felt something and when Malfoy jerked and stifled a moan, Harry knew he had found it. He rubbed the spot and played with the amount of pressure he was exerting. The blonde’s fingers paused as he moaned, and he gave Harry’s cock a squeeze with his free hand. Harry felt something warm and wet on his stomach and looked down to see precome leaking from Malfoy’s cock. He groaned both from the sight and the way the man had resumed his actions.  
  
His hips bucked to meet the blonde’s hand and every now and then Malfoy would clench around Harry’s fingers, give Harry’s cock a squeeze or suck at it as he finger fucked him. Soon they were both panting and moaning, though Malfoy opted to do that around Harry’s cock rather than out loud. Harry reached a hand to the man’s cock and began to pull at it.  
  
Soon Harry was bucking and moaning, hand holding tightly to Malfoy’s thighs as his orgasm built. He groaned and shot his load before the blonde could get his mouth back on Harry’s cock in time. When the blonde turned to look at him, his face was covered in Harry’s spunk. He wanted to finish Malfoy off and fuck him right there but he was recuperating.  
  
“Finger yourself,” he said.  
  
For some reason the man seemed more affronted by that demand than when Harry wanted to finger him. Malfoy turned back around and reached behind himself, his back arched in a delicious curve so that he could reach his entrance. Harry pushed him forwards so that the man had to hold himself up with his other hand, bent over so that Harry could get a better view.  
  
“Legs wider so I can see,” he said, a hand trailed up the man’s thigh as he spoke.  
  
Malfoy pulled his hand away so that he could shift and then he reached behind himself once more and Harry watched with rapt attention as the man pressed two fingers inside himself. He wriggled his hips before he began to pump them and Harry licked his lips in delight.  
  
“Fucking beautiful,” he murmured.  
  
The blonde glanced back at him but Harry was too busy watching his arse to acknowledge him. Malfoy moved his hand faster and began to rock his hips. The man sat up a bit, back still arched enough for Harry’s view to still be as enticing as it was before. He watched the way the man rolled his hips, the movement flowing all along his back. He swallowed and reached a hand around to the man’s cock.  
  
All he could hear was the slap of skin and the way the blonde gasped and whimpered as he rode his fingers and thrust into Harry’s hand. It was the most open he had been since he came to Grimmauld and Harry was caught off guard by the fact that he liked it, never mind that Malfoy was still holding back. When the man clamped a hand over his mouth, Harry pulled it away and held it in place so he could hear when he moaned. The blonde whimpered and with a few long thrusts into Harry’s hand Malfoy came and let out a strangled cry, fingers buried in his arse. His cock pulsed and he rocked into Harry’s hold as he rode it out.  
  
Harry was going to fuck Malfoy one day so he could feel all those flutters he was seeing in front of him once the fingers were removed.

  


***

  


He felt sated and ashamed. Draco sat and waited for instructions until the brunette signalled that he could put his trousers back on.  
  
"Malfoy," Master Potter said, as he buttoned his trousers. "Narcissa wants to see you."  
  
He froze and stared the man without responding. A slow burning excitement began to build inside of him.  
  
"Zabini contacted me and I've decided to allow it. Tomorrow at 8 in the last bedroom on the third floor," Master Potter said.  
  
He felt something that could almost be considered a smile form on his face and he inclined his head. "Thank you, Master Potter," he said.  
  
"It's more for Narssica. You'll only have an hour. That should be long enough," the man said. "If it goes well, and if I feel as if you deserve it, I'll try to keep the meetings up until this last month is out."  
  
"Yes, Master Potter," he said. He was going to see his mother. How was he supposed to keep up what was left of his already worn walls if Potter kept showing him kindness unexpectedly?  
  
Never mind that the whole thing was going to happen because Blaise contacted the man. Master Potter had said yes. That was the point.  
  
Never mind that it was for his mother's benefit and not out of a kindness for him. Master Potter had said yes. That was the point.  
  
Never mind that Draco would have to do more work now if he wanted to keep seeing her. Master Potter was providing him an opportunity. That was the point.

  


The next day Draco woke early. He was anxoius. He did not know the last time any of his anxiety stemmed from a good source though. All he could think was that he was going to see his mother, to hug her, to take in the comfort of her scent. It felt like a gift that Blaise had provided him and that Master Potter had agreed to deliver, a treat. He would gladly go back to cleaning the house, or cooking with all the Muggle things even, if it meant he would see her regularly. He wanted this and it had been so long since he had _really wanted_ something.  
  
When he went to the kitchens he made himself some tea but made sure to boil enough water for Master Potter as well. He fried himself eggs and sausage and made toast. He and Kreacher had an unspoken mutual agreement that since they were both under Master Potter's ownership that who so ever woke first would make breakfast. More often than not it was Kreacher.  
  
He finished eating when Master Potter entered the kitchen.  
  
"Master Potter," he said as greeting. The man nodded tiredly and sat at the table. Draco went to dish out the food and pour him his morning tea before he went and washed his dishes.  
  
He went to the lab and double checked the ingredients that were in the store. They would need to go to the apothecary tomorrow if Potter was to practice more advanced potions. There was enough to last for two more days of brewing if it was done properly but he would rather have the extra supply just in case. He made a note of the things they were low on.  
  
He went through the texts and looked for potions that were likely to be more difficult to brew than those on the NEWTS and he marked the pages of those he would have Master Potter brew. He studied the recipe and looked closely at the ingredients so he would know what cauldrons would react better to which potion and what ingredients would need to be handled on specific surfaces. He tried not to be overly helpful with the potions at this point and simply watched over Potter with as blank an expression as he could make so that the man would not look at him for reassurance of anything while he brewed. The point of all the practice was so that Master Potter would be able to brew on his own at the end of this and have enough knowledge to be able to act quickly should he botch something and need to salvage the potion, which would lead to him passing his NEWTS.  
  
After Master Potter came into the lab and they went through the potions for the day, the man went to set up the meeting room for Draco and Narcissa. In the meantime, Draco made something for dinner since Kreacher was not at the house. For some reason, the other man did not want the elf here while Narcissa was present, perhaps because she was a Black. He put the chicken in the oven and set about finishing the mash. By the time he was done the room was ready and he would be seeing his mother in less than an hour. He was so anxious he found it difficult to eat, but he had to, so he did.

  


As he waited for eight o’ clock Draco wondered how his mother would look, how he would look to her, how she would receive him. He knew she was in good care and should have regained any weight she had lost during their imprisonment at the Ministry. She never did thin down much during the war. He also knew that he had regained a bit of his weight, though he was not sure if his idea of a normal weight was medically accurate. He was somewhat glad that he had been ordered into bettering his health, the bags under his eyes and the pallor of his skin had gotten better since he had to take better care of himself. The nightmares were still coming but he was taking small doses of dreamless sleep. He had made Master Potter brew it for practice and kept a phial.  
  
At eight the floo roared to life, flickering red, orange and gold. There was blaze and the flames rose in a flash of green and yellow that reminded him too much of the Killing Curse. His mother stepped out of the fireplace and the flames died behind her. He was on his feet in an instant and any walls he still had up were discarded in a flash as he took in her form, her face, her smile, _her_. They had somehow managed to cross the room to one another and Draco found himself in an embrace before it even registered to him that he had wrapped his arms around her, and she him.  
  
"Mother,” he breathed.  
  
"Draco, son," she said. She kissed his temple and pulled away slightly to look at him, her smile wider than he had ever seen it, her expression more open than he was used to seeing. She had missed him as much as he had missed her, quite possibly more. "Have you been well? You look healthier than last I saw you. That’s good."  
  
"I’ve been fine," he said. He would not tell her about the boggarts, he would not tell her about his faint and he definitely would not tell her about Master Potter using him for recreational purposes. "Master Potter’s got me eating and sleeping regularly. I just have to help him with his potions NEWTS and cook from time to time."  
  
"Master?" she asked with a frown, as she pulled back some more. "Draco-"  
  
"It’s the only way I can remember that he’s my owner and not the boy I went to school with," he said. "But, how have you been? I missed you." He guided her to the couch that Master Potter had transfigured.  
  
She gave him a look that told him she would return to the "Master Potter" issue. "I've been well, more than well. The Zabini's are treating me wonderfully. I daresay I'm indebted to them. I'm not required to do anything, unless you count socializing with Marietta," she said.  
  
"Which you would have done either way," he smiled. "I'm glad you're well."  
  
"I've been worried about you," she said. "And your father as well. It's good to know I'll have at least one of you when this is through. Assuming the Ministry doesn't continue the auctions."  
  
"You've heard about father then," he said, as he looked away. "About the hexings."  
  
"I did," Narcissa said sadly, as she took his hand. "From what I've heard though, he's still alive."  
  
"But what sort of condition is he in?" Draco snapped. He took a breath. "Sorry, I- I've been so worried about him."  
  
"I know, I've been worried too," she pointed out. "I'll let it go just this once. Come here."  
  
He shifted closer to her and slipped into her arms. They talked about nothing and simply enjoyed the time they had together. He did not know when he would see her next, but if he worked hard enough it would be sometime soon.

  


After his mother returned to the Zabini Mansion, Draco was left with a bittersweet feeling. He had finally gotten to see her and it cemented the fact that she was doing well. He was happy. It had been a while since he had felt that emotion. He stood and stared at the fireplace long after she had left. He missed her already but it was not the worried sort of missing he had experienced before. He simply missed her, and that was all right.  
  
Now the only person whose condition was up in the air was Lucius.  
  
He vaguely registered that footsteps were coming his way but was too focused on relief that seeing Narcissa had left him with, the ridiculous amount of positive emotion.  
  
"Malfoy," Master Potter said. He turned around. "Are you going to stay here all-"  
  
"Thank you," he said. He meant it as well, with all of his being. He turned and looked at the fireplace again. "That was... It meant a lot to me."  
  
The other man seemed to be stunned into silence for some reason, though he did nod when Draco turned to look at him.  
  
He was not sure what came over him just then but he made his way across the room and gifted Master Potter in the only way he knew how. He kissed the man, snogged him really. He went down on his knees and he slid the trousers and pants off of the man before taking hold of his cock and pumping it in his hand, the man had already been half erect. He licked at the head and teased the slit with his tongue before sucking it in and swirling his tongue around it and sucking, pumping the shaft all the while.  
  
He sucked the now erect cock into his mouth and worked his way to the base. He pulled away and pumped his fist as he caught his breath. He licked at the man's balls and sucked at them before taking Master Potter's cock into his mouth again. He palmed the man’s balls and teased at his entrance with his fingers, not daring to press inside without lube. The man was groaning above him and Draco took him all the way in and sucked and bobbed with enthusiasm than he had not shown previously. He hummed and felt the cock twitch in his throat as the man grunted. He pulled away briefly to catch his breath, laving at the head in the meanwhile, before he went down again and bobbed and sucked and swallowed. He pressed and rubbed at the man’s perineum.  
  
Master Potter moaned, took hold of his head and began to thrust himself down Draco's throat swiftly before he tensed and pushed himself as deep as he could go, swearing as he emptied himself. Draco swallowed around the cock, and Master Potter ground his hips slowly for more friction. Once the man's climax had passed Draco pulled back and released the cock with quiet _pop_.  
  
"Fuck," Master Potter said, as Draco lapped at him. The man pulled him in for a snog, pausing only to mutter something quickly. "You're definitely going to see your mother again after _that_."  
  
With that Draco found himself actively participating in the best snog that he and the man shared.

  


***

  


That night Harry had ended up pinning Malfoy to the wall, a bit more willingly this time, and sucking him off. He could admit that he probably was not the best at it but he could not say he had not found it oddly arousing to have someone else writhing under his tongue, for the moments where he had gotten it right, and to have a cock in his mouth. They were so much larger when you had to fit your mouth around them though. It made him wonder at how Malfoy had even managed to fit him down his throat, and keep him there too because Harry had gagged a few times. Swallowing was another thing he had not considered as much of a skill until he was struggling to swallow the load Malfoy shot him instead of having it dribble out of his mouth or choke him.  
  
While he had attempted to suck Malfoy off though, the man had muttered instructions at him so that he was not completely out of the water. The man told him not to try taking too much in since he had not done it before, to use his hands to compensate for the unattended part of the shaft, to fondle or suck on the balls, to swallow to suppress his gag reflex or pull back if it was getting to be too much. The man was already teaching him potions so, why not something else as well?  
  
Later when Harry thought about the whole thing he realised _why_ he had been so engaged this time, why it had seemed so much better. Malfoy had been stripped of all his emotional barriers when it happened. After seeing Narcissa he had been open, expressive, present, _alive_ and Harry had caught him in that state of mind before he went back to the Malfoy that simply existed. The man had looked at him with so much gratitude and happiness, _awe_ pouring out of him that Harry's breath had caught from the shock of it. Then Malfoy had snogged him and gone down on him with so much fucking _enthusiasm_ and _willingness_ that Harry just let him go at it without interrupting, at least not until the very end. Once it was over he felt the need to do more, to do something other than snog the man until they were both breathless and panting. Not because he felt he owed Malfoy anything, but because part of him knew that getting this amount of activeness from the blonde would be a rare thing and for some reason he wanted it.

  


The next few days were full of potions related things, as usual, but now Malfoy was caught in a position where he seemed to want to help out more and still avoid Harry's gaze when possible. Harry reckoned the man was regretting his openness the other day. Harry was not quite sure what to do about it. At first he had appreciated the stoic and indifferent attitude Malfoy had shown towards him while he was being overwhelmed by the excess attention from Wizarding society, excess attention that he was still getting but was now more accustomed to and able to handle. Now though, after seeing that short display of emotion from the blonde, he wanted more.  
  
It was as if the blonde had set the tenderest of steaks out on a platter before him and then restricted him to just eat the rice, part of the dinner rather than the whole.  
  
That night, as Malfoy put away the apparatus and cleaned the cauldrons, Harry decided that maybe, for once, they could talk. He was not quite sure how that would end but he wanted to see Malfoy's mask crack, no matter the emotion it revealed.  
  
"Why aren't you looking at me?" he asked. He figured it was best he get straight to the point. That was what he always did with Malfoy.  
  
"Master Potter, I'm not sure I understand," Malfoy said, a slight pause in his movements.  
  
"You refuse to look me in the eyes," he replied. "Why?"  
  
The man glanced at him then looked away.  
  
"Are you embarrassed for _wanting_ to suck me off the other day?" he asked. The blonde swallowed but did not reply. "Or was it because of just how much you had indulged? I didn't mind it you know, nothing’s wrong with it. You're... handsome, when you’re so open. Not to mention how much more engaging our activities are when you're so enthusiastic."  
  
Malfoy said nothing. He only turned and set the stirring rods and mortar back in their respective storage areas.  
  
"Well?" he asked more firmly. "What is it?"  
  
"I was out of place, Master Potter," the blonde said. "I shouldn't have fallen subject to desire."  
  
"And why not?" he asked.  
  
"I'm not here for the sake of my own indulgence, Master Potter. I'm here for yours," Malfoy said. "You're not to be subjected to my whims, I am to be subjected to yours."  
  
"Malfoy, you're more fucked up than I originally thought," he said. "So does that mean that whatever I ask you to do, you'll do it?"  
  
Malfoy inclined his head. "If I'm able," the blonde said.  
  
"Is this how you were at the Manor?" he prodded.  
  
"... more or less," Malfoy said  
  
"So you just carried it over?" he asked. "Decided you'd act the same way towards me as you would Voldemort?" The blonde flinched at the name. "Well, glad to know I still share similarities with him."  
  
"Apologies, I didn't mean to compare you to-"  
  
"When did you become so complacent?" Harry asked. He thought back on the Malfoy that would break rules and would challenge him and who was full of life, despite the fact that it had been wasted on being an arse. "What happened to completely turn you around? It was fine at first, but now I'm a little annoyed that you're just doing whatever it is I ask of you with no protestation at all. You don't even snap at me when some potions theory takes me forever to understand and you have to explain it about ten times. You've got no fight left in you, Malfoy, and the more I think about it, the more I realize that desperate need to survive I'd seen in you in 6th year isn't there anymore. Even now you're just letting me have a go at you, not saying a thing."  
  
"I'll make an effort to speak my mind more often if that's what you're tell-" Malfoy started, but Harry held a hand up.  
  
"See that's what I'm noticing," he said. "You don't do anything because you want to do it. Everything you've done since being here is because I've said so, not because you want to. With the exception of seeing your mother and the blow job you gave me that night. Tell me Malfoy, if I hadn't ordered you to start eating and sleeping more regularly would you have tried to fix the problem yourself?"  
  
"I don't want to talk about this," the blonde said.  
  
"Right, now you speak up," Harry nodded. "I'm going to assume you wouldn't have then. You would have let yourself whither down to nothing. Granted I wouldn't have cared a month ago, but I put some time and effort into this those first couple of weeks of your recovery."  
  
Malfoy watched him with narrowed eyes. "What is it that you want, Master Potter? Do you want a _reason_ for the state I was in? Do you want an explanation for my complacency?" the man asked.  
  
"Yes," he said. _Because I've been enough of an arsehole not to notice or care that Malfoy's just as broken as the rest of us. And that I'm contributing to it._  
  
"Well, I've already said I that I don't want to discuss it," the blonde persisted, his expression stern.  
  
"I'm no Mind Healer, Malfoy, but I reckon this is one of those things you'll have to talk about sooner or later," he said, as he pushed himself off of the wall and turned to leave.  
  
"Why are you asking me these things now?" Malfoy asked.  
  
Harry stopped and turned around. "Because I should pay attention to the people I live with. Because that one moment of openness reminded me that you're not the equivalent of a house elf, never mind that I probably treat them better than I treat you. Because Hermione made me notice that I'm not taking other people into consideration much anymore," he said.  
  
The blonde blinked and turned away to fetch the last cauldron. "I had to watch Greyback devour a girl alive," Malfoy said. "Before that... I never did think about how much we resembled meat. I knew it, of course, but I'd never thought about it."  
  
To be completely honest, Harry had not expected to get an answer out of Malfoy so soon, nor did he expect such a blatantly honest one. Perhaps it was because he had admitted to some character flaws, though he had not really said much.  
  
He could have responded by telling Malfoy that he was sorry the man had to see that, but he was not quite sure just how true it was. They had been in a war, they were bound to see things that they should not have to. It was part of it all. He simply nodded in acknowledgement.  
  
The man glanced at him and then looked off to the side. "It was a warning... of sorts. Fail him, disobey him, disappoint him and you would die. Simple as that. Either by Nagini or Greyback, never the Killing Curse," said Malfoy.  
  
"And with options like that, who would dare defy their Master?" Harry finished. "Especially with their family on the line as well."  
  
"Precisely," Malfoy said distantly, as if caught in a memory.  
  
After having to adopt that sort of lifestyle, it would be difficult for someone to drop it, regardless of the characteristics of a new "master". Harry was beginning to dislike the honorific now. He never did like sharing similarities with Voldemort.  
  
"I think that's enough talk for now, Malfoy," he said, as he pushed himself off of the table. "Let's have dinner."  
  
As they ate Harry thought about something he had not given much consideration. He knew that Malfoy was forced to torture people and he knew that he and his parent’s lives were at stake, but so were basically everyone else’s. He had not really taken into account the concentrated dose of the war Malfoy would have gotten from simply being _around_ Voldemort and living at the headquarters. So many things were likely to have passed through Malfoy Manor. So many people. So many lives. And if Voldemort himself was not there then Bellatrix Lestrange probably was, but then again she was his aunt. Perhaps she was a bit more sane towards him.  
  
Then there was the end of the war. Once Voldemort was gone most others were far better off than they had been during the war, but Malfoy and Narcissa, Harry did not quite care for Lucius, would still have to live in fear. They were taken straight from the Great Hall to the cells of the Ministry. They definitely were not treated with compassion, not so soon after all the bloodshed and the losses that were suffered. Then they were auctioned off, and though Narcissa ended up with the Zabini's, Harry had bought Malfoy. Harry, his Hogwarts rival. Harry, the Saviour who defeated the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. Harry, who did not like him. There was no reason for Malfoy to even think he would be treated well under new ownership, and he had not been.  
  
Harry could admit that he had given the man poor living arrangements, that he had made the blonde to work to get it cleaned. If it were someone else staying there, Harry would have at least expelled the boggarts and transfigured the bed into something more pleasant. But part of him had wanted to punish Malfoy, to let him suffer a bit, to pull him out of that privileged, pure-blood lifestyle. Harry had bought the man on impulse after all, when all the memories and emotions had seeped into him and given him some sort of vindictive drive. He had forgotten that the war had not been easy on Malfoy either. That the blonde had already been yanked out of his comfort zone and lifestyle since Lucius had been captured in 5th year. That despite still living in the Manor at the time, Malfoy had already begun being punished, long before he had let the Death Eaters in and long before he had disarmed Dumbledore. Voldemort had been punishing him because Lucius had been out of reach.  
  
It struck him then that the other man had had his mother's life dangled in front of him for years now, used against him as manipulation, and vice versa.  
  
"Malfoy," he said, when they were nearly finished eating.  
  
"Master Potter?" replied the blonde.  
  
Harry shook his head. "You can drop the Master. It's getting to be a bit much. And way too reminiscent of Lord Voldemort," he said, ignoring the slight twitch Malfoy gave. "Twice a week. That's how often you can meet up with Narcissa. Three if I'm feeling generous, though you really only have about three weeks left here."  
  
The blonde lowered his spoon and stared at him with slightly parted lips. His eyes flickered with hope or with joy, Harry could not tell but it was an emotion and there was an openness to it that, while it was not as concentrated as a few days prior, was refreshing. He had never paid much attention to Malfoy's features before, not since he had classified him as pointy in first year. The man really was handsome, at least now that his face had filled out a bit more since he had resumed eating. The emotions just made him look better and a lot less like marble.  
  
"Thank you, M- ...Potter," the blonde said softly, a slight smile playing on his lips.

  


***

  


After the semblance of a discussion with Mas- Potter, and it really should not be so difficult to start thinking of him without the honorific again, Draco had, to some extent, relaxed. Not only that, but Potter was far less aloof. It was as if seeing some sort of emotion from him, that was not hate or contempt, had forced the man to see him as another human being rather than an annoyance or a means to an end.  
  
It was odd.  
  
Strangely enough though, after that they managed to talk about things that did not relate to potions or involve Potter ordering Draco to do something. Of course there was an order here or there when Potter's libido kicked in and he would either want Draco to please him or to try something out, and even that was going better. He was more willing to speak about things, though he never did reject anything. He simply gave out proper instructions. They were settling into a strange sort of... understanding of one another.  
  
Draco also got to see Narcissa again so he was in... he would not say good spirits, just... better. He was not constantly wondering about her, though Lucius was still a concern.  
  
At the moment Draco was in Potter's bed concentrating on snogging the man breathless and grinding their hips together. The brunette rolled onto his back and pulled Draco on top of him as he groped his arse and pulled him in. Hand began slide under his shirt and over his back, his sides and his chest.  
  
"Want to fuck you," Potter said, as he rolled his hips. Draco was not opposed to the idea. He would not mind a good rogering. The man began to tug his shirt up and Draco froze.  
  
"What are you doing?" he asked, shocked.  
  
"Wh- I'm taking your shirt off, _obviously_ ," Potter replied.  
  
"We never fully unclothe me," he pointed out.  
  
"I think I noticed that," Potter said, before he tugged at the shirt once more.  
  
"Wh- Hey- Potter, wait," he said hurriedly. He was still a bit put off when it came to someone else seeing his body. He was more or less fine with his lower half. There were enough muscles on his legs so that he did not look terribly scrawny. He was not quite sure how he looked now. Not to the normal eye.  
  
The other man huffed and let his arms fall beside him. " _What_ is it now, Malfoy?" the man asked.  
  
"I'm... not particularly comfortable with taking my shirt off..." he said slowly, as he pulled back.  
  
"Malfoy, you do realize I've already seen your bits so there really isn't anything else to hide from me, right?" said Potter.  
  
"I realize," he conceded.  
  
"Then let me take the shirt off," Potter continued.  
  
"Not yet... I-" he stopped when he felt a hand pulling his shirt away from his chest.  
  
"Malfoy, if I had cared about how thin you were I would have stopped a long time ago. Stop being ridiculous," Potter said frustratedly.  
  
"I'm not being _ridiculous_ ," he said.  
  
"You aren't scrawny anymore, so you're being ridiculous," the man continued. "And I''ve already got a pretty good idea what you look like under there, I've _felt_ it."  
  
"Just the pants for now," he said.  
  
"What?" Potter complained.  
  
"Potter," he said softly, "please?"  
  
"Why the fuck did I tell you to be more open?" Potter breathed. "Fine just your pants, for now."  
  
Draco slipped the item off and after a while they got back into the groove of things. Soon Draco was pinned underneath a naked Potter whimpering as the man fingered him relentlessly. He gasped and he writhed as the digits moved inside of him and when they slowed, he rolled his hips to meet them.  
  
"I want my cock inside you Malfoy, now," Potter said, with a hunger that was more intense than he was used to. Draco nodded and spread his legs.  
  
"Go ahead," he breathed.  
  
"Shirt, off," Potter said.  
  
Draco sighed. "I really don't want to take it off-"  
  
"Malfoy," Potter said sternly.  
  
"I- How about a compromise?" he said. "It'll require you to trust me."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'll take my shirt off if you allow me to blindfold you," he said, his cock twitching at the thought of it.  
  
"That completely defeats the purpo-"  
  
"You still get to _feel_ my skin on yours," he said. "And trust me, it's fairly pleasant."  
  
"Malfoy, I know you haven't tried to pull anything recently but asking to blindfold me is a bit of a jump," Potter said.  
  
"Your hands will be free so it's not like you have anything to worry about. I'm not strapping you to the bed," he said. "and... if anything, you can take it off when I'm not paying attention."  
  
The man stayed silent for some time as he considered it and then he sighed heavily. "I can't believe I'm about to do this," Potter muttered. The man summoned a tie and Draco smiled at him.  
  
"Lay down," he said. "And I'm not an idiot, I won't try to pull anything."  
  
"You'd better not," Potter warned, as he rolled off of him and lay on the bed. He tied the tie around his eyes and squirmed.  
  
Draco touched him gently and Potter jumped from the suddenness. He climbed on top of the man and mounted him before he slipped his shirt off slowly. Potter could not see him so what did it matter that he was completely naked? It did not so he should calm down.  
  
Draco glided his hands over the man's chest, neck and jaw before he leaned down and kissed him. Potter felt around until his hands found Draco and followed his skin straight down to his arse. Draco rocked gently and let their erections rub as they snogged. Once he was sufficiently calmed, he sat up and reached between them. Potter's cock twitched when he took hold of it. He positioned the head by his entrance and lowered himself onto it slow and sure. Potter moaned beneath him and he closed his own eyes so that he could concentrate on the feeling, the stretch. He ground his hips to push the man deeper and then began to rock gently. He ran a hand over Potter's chest and side and groaned when he felt hands cup his cheeks and squeeze.  
  
Draco began to roll his hips and steadily picked up the pace, licking his lips at the way Potter rubbed his insides. He paused and wriggled his hips before resuming his undulations. He rested his hands on the man's chest and rode him hard and fast. When a hand slid up his back and pulled him down he leaned in and snogged the man. He kept his head near Potter's and panted in the man's ear. His thrusts had slowed down during their snog and he sat up so that he could bounce more easily. He groaned and leaned back a bit, canting his hips until- _Oooh, there we are_ \- he hit his prostate.  
  
He ground his hips slowly, teasing at his prostate, before he began to move in earnest. He took hold of his cock and groaned softly as he began to wank himself. He head lolled back and his mouth fell open as he rode. Fuck if Potter did not feel good inside of him.  
  
"Fucking gorgeous," Potter muttered.  
  
Draco's head snapped forwards and he faltered when he saw the man watching, blindfold discarded.  
  
"Don't stop," Potter said, as he ran a hand up Draco's thigh. "You look... really fucking... erotic."  
  
He would be lying if he said his cock had not twitched at that. Potter took hold of him and squeezed. Draco let himself go, in more ways than one, and tentatively began riding the man again. Potter's eyes drank him in and he licked his lips and increased his pace.  
  
"Good... Excellent... Just like that... Ride my cock... Fuck yes, Malfoy," Potter muttered. "So fucking beautiful."  
  
Soon he was panting as Potter thrust upwards and he mewled and squirmed as he felt his orgasm approaching.  
  
"Keep going," he panted, "Keep.... yes... there... almost... I..."  
  
"Don't you... dare hold back, Malfoy," Potter panted. "I want to hear you... ah..."  
  
He whimpered and bucked as he arched. When he peaked he felt his body tense, his balls draw up and his cock pulse as he moaned, long and slow. He rolled his hips and rode it out as he wanked himself slowly, milking his cock onto Potter's stomach.  
  
The other man rolled them over and spread Draco wide before he went at it. He slammed in hard and fast and Draco let out soft groans as he got rammed. Soon Potter tensed and buried himself deep as he let out a cry and emptied himself in Draco. It was hot and it was moist inside of him and he groaned at the sensation, bucking his hips and relishing the way the man twitched inside him.  
  
"That was fantastic," Potter panted, after he rolled off of Draco. "Maybe next time I'll keep the blindfold on. That was interesting to feel. Curiosity got the better of me though."  
  
Draco snorted. "Maybe I should teach you how to brew the protective potions if we're going start fucking. Teaching you how to brew some lube wouldn't hurt either."  
  
Potter laughed. "That's the first I've heard you make a joke," the man said.  
  
"I'm dreadful at pillow talk," he admitted.  
  
"Haha, just go to sleep Malfoy," the man mumbled. "I want you to make me breakfast before I head into that exam. Your hash is better than Kreacher's, your eggs in a basket too."  
  
"I'm guessing you want bacon as well?" he asked.  
  
"Mhm," Potter responded, as he pulled the sheets up and over them. "Now go to sleep."

  


***

  


Harry woke when he rolled over and touched nothing but mattress. He yawned and stretched as he looked around the room and then shrugged at Malfoy’s absence. The crusted mess on his chest indicated that they had actually shagged last night and it was not actually a dream.  
  
Once he had showered and gotten his things, he went downstairs. The smell of hash and bacon came from the kitchen and he smiled in content. He really did love a good hash.  
  
“Blimey, Malfoy, this hash is actually pretty good,” Ron said, as Harry opened the door. He frowned and looked at the man sitting at the table with a plate in front of him.  
  
“Ron?” he asked. He cast a quick glance at Malfoy and the blonde glanced at him in return.  
  
“Reckoned we could go to the exam centre together,” Ron said. “And ‘Mione was going to check if you got up and I decided to save you _that_ nightmare. Do you have any idea how early she dropped in on me?”  
  
“I can imagine, thanks,” Harry said, as he went to get himself a plate. “Morning, Malfoy.”  
  
“Morning, Potter,” the blonde said, as he flipped some bacon. “Weasley finished the bacon. “ He shot a quick glare Ron’s way and Harry smiled at the action. “So it’ll just be a moment. They’re almost done.”  
  
He shook his head and glanced at Ron. “My bacon, Ron, really?” he commented. He got himself a fork and started to dish out some of the food. He really wanted to get a snog in this morning but that would have to wait until later.  
  
“I was hungry,” the man defended. “And it’s not like Malfoy couldn’t cook more.”  
  
“Hmph,” Malfoy huffed, as he turned off the stove before giving Harry some bacon.  
  
“Thanks,” Harry said to the blonde, before sitting down. “Ron, you need to stop eating when you’re nervous.”

  


When Harry and Ron arrived at the exam centre they were both getting anxious and Ron had started to fidget annoyingly.  
  
“Ron, you’ve done harder things in the war. Why are you fidgeting?” he asked.  
  
“So have you, and you’re tugging at your hair like you want to pull it out,” Ron countered.  
  
“I was dreadful at potions. I have a right to be...” he muttered.  
  
“Well, I wasn’t exactly brilliant at it either,” Ron reminded him. “All that work had better paid off. I can’t have sat through so much of ‘Mione’s tutoring for it not to. She’s brilliant, but she’s nagging when she teaches.”  
  
“Haha, aren’t I lucky I got Malfoy to tutor me then,” he said. “No nagging. But I’ve brewed so many potions that I’ve nothing to do with them.”  
  
“How’d that go by the way?” Ron asked. “You two seem like you can actually tolerate each other now.”  
  
“We’re getting along,” he said, which was true. They just also happened to be fucking. Harry really should find a way to come out to his friends at some point. They would eventually notice the way he looked at blokes.  
  
“That’s weird, mate,” the other man commented.  
  
“He’s not so bad now that he isn’t being a pure-blood supremacist,” he said.  
  
“Are you certain you’re Harry Potter?” Ron asked, as the invigilator told them to take up their stations.  
  
Harry laughed. “I am.”  
  
As he waited for the exam to start he mentally sifted through all the things Malfoy kept on having to repeat to him during his studies. He would pass this test and then he would go home for a celebratory shagging.

  


With a great stretch, Harry left the exam centre. His potion, he felt, had gone well. Malfoy had made him practise the Draught of the Living Death a number of times, as well as more complex potions, so that had gone a lot better than he had expected. He was not sure about the written exam though. He was never very good at judging those things. He could feel he did well and it was terrible or vice versa.  
  
When he saw Ron he grinned and the red head did likewise.  
  
“That wasn’t so bad,” Ron said. “I reckon only having to focus on one subject made things a lot easier. Good thing we didn’t have a bad reputation for any of our other classes.”  
  
“I reckon Hermione and Malfoy just happened to teach a lot better than Snape,” he said. For a moment he felt himself frown at the memory of the man but he shook it off. Now was not the time. “Want to go grab a butterbeer?”  
  
“Bloody brilliant idea,” Ron said.  
  
They headed to the Leaky Cauldron and, Harry having to turn down multiple requests for autographs, photographs and Merlin knew what else, Ron sputtering his declines as a few people approached him as well. They decided on walking around Diagon Alley instead of sitting in and so they took their beers to go.  
  
“I’m never going to get used to that,” Ron said, with a shake of his head. “I mean the fame is sort of flattering but... blimey.”  
  
“Wait until they start the proposals and requests to father their children,” he said.  
  
“Merlin, they’re nutters,” Ron said.  
  
“I reckon I already knew tha-” he said, but a loud cheering had cut him short.  
  
He and Ron glanced at one another before shrugging and heading over to see what the commotion was about. It was not often that so many people sounded like that these days.  
  
When they finally reached the crowd Harry realized they had come across the Hexing. Carrow was on the stage writhing in silent agony on the floor as a young man brandished his wand at him with far too much enjoyment. He had nearly forgotten that the Death Eater had had his voice stolen and so he could not voice his pain. The crowd cheered each time a curse was thrown, rather severe stinging hexes, nothing like the Cruciatus but if it was being inflicted continuously it might as well have been. It was easier to sustain for long periods after all.  
  
Harry frowned as he looked around the area. People were walking past with children and teenagers who could very well see what was going on, and others were in the crowd watching on. He felt his stomach clench at how desensitized they would be when they grew up. That would not be good.  
  
“This is seriously fucked up,” he said.  
  
“Tell me about it,” Ron agreed with a nod. “I bloody _hate_ Carrow, but that doesn’t mean I need to see him tortured. Send the fucker to Azkaban and let him suffer where I can’t see it. I saw enough of this during the war.”  
  
“It doesn’t look as if Carrow can handle much more!” the woman Harry had seen the last time said to the crowd. “What should we do? Should we switch him out? Or do you want to see if he can last longer than dear Alecto? Bless her soul.”  
  
“See how long he lasts!” someone jeered.  
  
“Bring Malfoy back out! Let’s see how long that bastard lasts!” someone yelled.  
  
“Hear, hear to Malfoy!” someone seconded.  
  
A number of people in the crowd roared at the mention of Lucius and Harry grimaced at the enthusiasm. Switch them out or see if Amycus lasts as long as Alecto... They were not _just_ publicly torturing these Death Eaters. They were killing them too.  
  
 _They can’t seriously be_ this _fucked up?_ He thought, though he already knew the answer.  
  
“Malfoy looks like shit,” Ron said. “Fucking hell.”  
  
It was true, Lucius did look worse for wear. The man’s hair was matted, he was gaunt, sickly. The bags under his eyes were dark and massive and one of his eye lids continued to droop. Harry flinched when he noticed the way the man’s left arm was blackened up to the forearm. It was reminiscent of when he had last seen Dumbldore in reality. That was definitely not the result of Light magic.  
  
The man staggered dangerously as he got shoved onto the stage. Harry was surprised he had not fallen. When he caught a look at the Lucius’ eyes they were flat and dull, much like his son’s had been a month prior.  
  
“They can’t do this,” Harry said, beginning to realize just how serious the state of Wizarding society was. “Fuck, what are they _thinking_?”  
  
“They aren’t,” Ron said, as he ran a hand through his hair. “They’re hurting and they want someone to hate and to punish. It was... it was the same for me after Fred... But this is... way too extreme.”  
  
Harry rested a hand on Ron’s arm. “I’m going to try and stop it for now,” he said, before turning to part his way through the crowd. He saw Ron begin to follow behind him.  
  
By the time he had reached the stage people had already climbed up and started casting. He tried to suppress the way he wanted to flinch at the screams.

  


***

  


When Potter came home he was pissed. Draco had asked him how the exam had gone or if he could get the man anything and all he got as a response was a sigh as the man rubbed his face and sat on the staircase. Draco watched him and frowned. Just having a bad NEWT exam was not likely to do this to him. It took about two minutes before Potter even said anything.  
  
“Sit,” Potter said, as he motioned beside him. Draco could not quite identify an emotion in the man's voice.  
  
"What is it?" he asked, as he sat beside the man.  
  
Potter sighed. "Malfoy, I- Firstly the NEWTs went well, thanks," Potter said. "Um, secondly... I um... Ron and I saw the Hexing while it was going on. It was... not what you'd expect from people who are supposedly fed up with violence. We tried to break it up but there were way too many people there and some were already on stage."  
  
"What happened?" he asked, thinking of Lucius.  
  
Potter looked at him sadly and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Lucius is dead, Malfoy," the man said softly. Draco felt his heart drop and his throat clench. "I tried to stop the bleeding but I couldn't get to him in time to make much of a difference."  
  
"How?" he whispered, his voice cracked and his eyes stung.  
  
"One of the people on stage. I'm not sure who," Potter said. "It looked like a... disembowelment curse."  
  
"Dark magic," he huffed. "Fucking hypocrites- fuck." He got up and paced a bit before deciding it was probably best he sit for a while. Draco rested his head in his hands and tried to control his breathing as his body began to shake. Potter touched his shoulder gently. "Don't, just don't. Please."  
  
The hand withdrew and Potter continued to talk. "I was thinking you'd probably want to stay over at Zabini's for a couple days, be with Narcissa."  
  
Draco nodded because he knew he could not trust his voice.  
  
"You should go pack anything you need, or want, to carry," Potter said. "I'll floo Zabini and tell him we're headed over.”  
  
He nodded but did not move. He stayed in place as the man got up. He stayed in place during the floo call. He did not move when Potter came up to him again or when the man went up the stairs. He just sat there and settled into a sort of surreality, where he knew Lucius was dead and he acknowledged it, but though it shocked him and it shook him when he had found out it had not _really_ hit him.  
  
When Potter called his name, Draco started and then ran his hands through his hair. "Sorry, I um... lost myself for a minute," he said.  
  
"Let's go," Potter said. "I packed your things."  
  
Draco looked up to see the man holding a bag out to him and he took it and rose from the staircase. "Thanks," he muttered. Potter nodded at him and continued down the stairs. He caught a glimpse of something that looked like a newly healed wound on the Potter's arm and wondered at the extent to which things had elevated in Diagon Alley. He did not want to ask though. Not yet at least.  
  
He went and grabbed some floo powder and tossed it into the hearth, the green flames flickered and mocked. "Zabini Mansion," he said, and was whisked away, Potter following behind him.

 

Explaining things to his mother was not the most enjoyable task.  
  
Draco held her lightly as they sat on the sofa. Narcissa would wait until Potter was gone to cry, until they were alone. Until then this was all he could do. Her hands trembled lightly and she would at times close her eyes and take a breath. Blaise had ordered one of the house elves to go make her a cuppa to sooth her.  
  
In the meanwhile, Potter retold the events at Diagon Alley. As it turned out, Potter had gone to the Ministry after the incident. He had tried to convince them to do something about the citizens, that they were out of hand and no good would come from such extreme actions, especially so soon after the war. The remaining Death Eaters should be tried once they were returned and treated as well, in the case of those that were in the Hexing. The Minister rather thought he had better things to do. Apparently public Death Eater murders were not high on his priority list.  
  
The only shred of good news that Potter had provided throughout his reiteration was that the head Auror, Kingsley Shacklebolt, seemed sympathetic to the situation and was willing to help. The man had suggested utilizing the media to coax the Ministry into submission. It was a known fact that they did not want to be seen in disagreement with the Saviour at the moment.  
  
It seemed that Potter already had a new task when it came to saving the Wizarding society.  
  
"Anyway, I'll be letting Malfoy stay here for a few days. I reckon he and Mrs. Malfoy need the time," Potter said.  
  
"Having Draco stay a while isn't a problem," Blaise said, as he looked at them. As usual his expression was stoic but his eyes held sadness, pity.  
  
"I'd better get going then," Potter said, before heading to the floo. "I'll leave the floo open in case Malfoy needs to come through for anything."  
  
Once the brunette left, Blaise excused himself and Narcissa's grip on Draco tightened. He held her close and let her rest her head on his shoulder as she cried quietly. Draco could feel his heart breaking with her every shudder.

  


That night Draco found it difficult to sleep. He lay awake and stared up at the ceiling for long moments as he wondered at the hollowness he now felt. It would hit him soon enough, he was sure. The weight of Lucius’ death, his murder really, would come crashing down on him with more force than he would be ready for and when he would least expect it.  
  
He sighed and decided to head to the kitchens. He needed a drink and possibly something to eat. He had skipped dinner after all and falling back into his old habits was not something he wanted to do. It would be too easy to relapse now.  
  
When he arrived in the kitchens he saw his mother sitting at the island with a nearly empty glass of wine in hand and a house elf across from her with a bottle. She turned to him and smiled sadly, her cheeks stained with tears.  
  
“Mother,” he said softly, worriedly, as he walked over to her.  
  
“I’m not one to finish a bottle on my own, don’t worry,” she said. “And I’ve given Zippy instructions to monitor my alcohol intake.”  
  
“Yes, Zippy is being watching Mistress Narcissa,” the young elf said with a rigorous nod of its head.  
  
Draco sighed and nodded. “All right then,” he said, as he perused the cupboards. “Zippy, where’s the bread?”  
  
The elf frowned at him. “What is the Master Draco needing? Zippy will be making it,” the elf said determinedly.  
  
“A sandwich... and a glass of wine too, please,” he said. “Doesn’t matter what kin-”  
  
The elf gasped and his eyes widened dangerously. “The Master is saying _please_ to Zippy,” the elf gasped. Draco only realized then what he had done. It seemed time at Potter’s had humbled him or something of the sort. “Zippy is being honoured.”  
  
Draco nodded and sat beside his mother as Zippy poured him a glass and then went about making the sandwich.  
  
“You’re going to eat at this time of the night?” Narcissa asked with a frown.  
  
“I skipped dinner,” he replied, before he took a sip of the wine. It was excellent. The Zabini’s had good taste, but then he already knew that.  
  
“Fair enough,” she said. “You shouldn’t make a habit of it though.”  
  
“I won’t,” he said automatically.  
  
His mother peered into her wine glass and stroked it mindlessly as she inhaled deeply. “I knew this might happen one day. That Lucius would be- that he’d get...” she sighed and shook her head. “But despite my awareness of that it’s still... I hadn’t expected to feel it this much, for it to hurt so magnificently.”  
  
“It’s not something you can ready yourself for, mother,” he said, as he touched her arm gently.  
  
Zippy bustled over to him then and laid a plate down in front of him. The sandwich was... massive.  
  
“What kind of sandwich is it?” he asked. It looked scrumptious.  
  
“Zippy made sirloin steak sandwich with lettuce, toma-”  
  
“Sirloin steak, brilliant,” he murmured. It had been some time since he had eaten that. “Thank you, Zippy.”  
  
“Master Draco is being very welcome,” the elf said. He looked about to worship Draco.  
  
Draco took a bite of the sandwich and very nearly moaned. Potter had rarely asked Kreacher to prepare any steak dishes and he was not particularly good at cooking anything that had a tendency to lose its tenderness. He could go through the hassle of being meticulous with his potions but not always with his cooking. The sandwich really was massive though. He had to take two bites to get to both layers of bread. He likely would not be able to finish it unless he ate dreadfully slowly.  
  
“You seem different, Draco,” his mother said, pulling him away from the flavours.  
  
He raised a brow since his mouth was full and he also realized, with some delight, that he was _enjoying_ eating.  
  
“Lighter. Less restricted,” she said with a slight smile. “I can see that your father’s... That what’s happened, has affected you in some manner. It sounds odd, I know. Some months ago though I wouldn’t have been able to tell quite so easily though. You’re less distant is what I’m saying really.”  
  
“We are in a very different environment now though,” he said, after swallowing.  
  
“I’m aware,” she said, as she touched his cheek. “But nevertheless, I’m glad to still have you.”  
  
He swallowed and nodded. “And I you, mother,” he returned.  
  
Narcissa gave him a delicate smile before she turned to Zippy. “Another glass, would you?” she said.  
  
“This is the last glass the Mistress is to be having,” Zippy said shyly, as he poured.  
  
“I take it you won’t let me veto those instructions, will you?” she asked Draco. He shook his head and she nodded. “I miss him.”  
  
“I know,” he said.  
  
“He was a fool for following that mad man and I was a fool for following him,” she said, as she raised her glass to her lips.

  


***

  


“It’s barbaric,” Harry said. “We’ve only just come out of a war. The people claim they’re tired of the violence, of the bloodshed, but here they are partaking in it without any need to. They’re practically thriving in it, the ones participating in the Hexings, and the ones that go to watch it as well. They are publicly torturing people to the point of death, and right in front of children too. Then they’ll wonder why it is that generation seems so cold and harsh later on.  
  
“Just because the Death Eaters hurt us all doesn’t mean we have a right to treat them this way. What does that say to the younger ones? They’ll turn out just like them. Hurting anyone that wrongs them and thinking its fine because they’ve seen their parents and other adults do it. And they’re using Dark Magic too, after they’ve already gone and denounced it all these years.”  
  
“But don’t you think this violence is justified?” Skeeter asked. “Given everything that’s happened? What the Death Eaters have done?”  
  
“Hmph, no. Maybe if you’d asked me right after the war I’d have agreed, when the loss was still fresh,” he said. “But we can’t just go around serving out penalties to them like this. We haven’t given any of them a chance to say their piece. I know for a fact that a few Death Eaters helped in the war or were reluctant to the cause. Voldemort would have hunted them down if they hadn’t returned to him though. And you can argue that death was a choice, sure. But that wouldn’t have been a swift death. Not if they’d betrayed him. He would have had them tortured first.”  
  
“You say you know for a _fact_ that some Death Eaters were on our side. Who?” Skeeter asked, her eyes bright with curiosity.  
  
“Severus Snape,” he said, and he took a moment to ready himself for the story, the very summarized story. “Since the first war he had turned to the Light. He had warned Dumbledore about Voldemort’s targeting me, if only because he had been childhood friends with my mother and wanted to spare her life. He was a double agent in the second. Feeding Dumbledore information and gaining Voldemort’s trust so that it would be more valuable. I know Snape killed Dumbledore, and I hated him for it, but he hated it too. Dumbledore was dying and he knew Voldemort had ordered Malfoy to kill him, that the man would have wanted his wand, the Death Stick, which if he got and had control of would have left little hope that we could win. So he asked Snape to be the one to kill him. To spare Malfoy, who wouldn’t have been able to do it and would have had his parent’s killed as a result and to ensure that Voldemort didn’t have full control over the wand.  
  
“Snape helped me during the war without my knowing, guided me. He died for us and with his last breath gave me the information I needed to end the war. And no one knew it. And everyone hated him. I had hated him...”  
  
Skeeter seemed to take a few moments to catch her bearings. “Snape is only one person though, and a dead one at that,” she said. Harry cast a quick glare at her and she flinched.  
  
“Narcissa Malfoy, she confirmed my death in the Forbidden Forest. She lied for me. Saved me,” he said. “Draco Malfoy, I had been captured and taken to the Manor. My face was swollen and deformed and he was the only one who could identify me. He didn’t, though I saw the recognition when he looked at me. He spared me enough time to escape because no one wanted to call Voldemort on the off chance that it wasn’t me they’d caught.”  
  
“So what exactly are you trying to say with all this, Mr. Potter?” Skeeter asked. “That we should just let them go unpunished?”  
  
“What I’m saying is that we never should have auctioned them off to the public in the first place,” he said. “Not with all the animosity that’s fresh in so many people and likely to stay there for quite some time.”  
  
“You bought a Death Eater from what I hear though,” she challenged.  
  
“And I was an idiot for it,” he said. “I was angry and I was hurt and I wanted Malfoy to suffer for what he did. And I was in denial. I couldn’t accept that he had helped me. Not after we’d hated each other for so long. And then I realized I was being stupid. It’s not up to me to decide how anyone’s punished. They should have a fair trial, get sentenced in accordance to the laws that are in place. Not by how I _feel_. With the way things are going now, half of Wizarding society might as well have been Death Eaters with the things that they’re doing.”

  


The next day when the article was published, Harry had not been surprised to see owls flocking at his window. He also was not surprised that a few of them were howlers or that one of them bore a Ministry seal. He had Kreacher let that one in so he could read it.  
  
The letter was from Kingsley. He wanted Harry to have a meeting with him at the Ministry. He ate his breakfast and headed out. It was probably going to be a long day.

  


“You wanted to see me, Kingsley?” he asked, as he closed the man’s office door behind him.  
  
“Harry, have a seat, would you?” Kingsley said, as he motioned to the chair across from his desk.  
  
“Is this about the article?” he asked, getting straight to the point. He did not sit.  
  
“It is. The Minister asked me to talk to you and try to convince you to back down. The Ministry doesn’t want to have a fight with a war hero so soon after the war has ended, especially not you,” the man said.  
  
“I’m not going to. You of all people here should know that,” he said. Kingsley had seen his determination first hand. When Harry supported a cause he carried it through to the end.  
  
“I’m not asking you to, Harry,” Kingsley said with a shake of his head. “I’ve delivered the message, as _requested_ , but that doesn’t mean I support it.” The man motioned at the chair once more and this time Harry took a seat. “I support you, Harry. I always thought the auctions were a ridiculous idea, with huge safety issues and not enough restrictions. But my voice alone couldn’t do anything and anyone else that agreed with me did not have enough influence to outweigh most of the Wizengamot. The Ministry needed the money that would come in from the auction and they didn’t care about what would happen to anyone because of it.  
  
“In fact, after this ownership period is over they’re planning to re-auction the surviving Death Eaters, regardless of the state they’re in and likely without having them treated by Healers.  
  
“So you used the official message you had to deliver as a cover up for this one then,” Harry said. He shook his head amusedly. “Kingsley, you sly dog.”  
  
“I know,” the man chuckled. “Anyway, what I’m getting at is that now the rest of us have that extra push to get the trials into consideration. And Woolworth’s been doing a fairly poor job as Minister so far, a fair amount of people want him out of office. That means we’re going to get a few supporters just because they want to go against him. So keep up what you’re doing and I’ll be helping out from within the Ministry and dealing with most the deeper politics.”  
  
“That’s good news,” Harry nodded. “I’ve never much liked politics.”  
  
“I’d say it’ll grow on you, but it won’t,” Kingsely smiled. “I’ll keep in touch.”  
  
“Thanks,” Harry nodded and got up.  
  
“And Harry,” Kingsley called. “A few people may have sent in anonymous letters to the _Prophet_ supporting your claim about Severus, so that should already be helping things along media wise.”  
  
“Brilliant,” he smiled. He had allies in his new endeavour, and ones that would help him from the inside.

  


***

  


With a sigh Draco submerged himself in the bath. He let the warmth of the water surround him and relax him before he surfaced to breathe. Narcissa was fluctuating between bouts of depression and paying Draco an excessive amount of attention the past few days. It was stifling. He had not yet returned to Potter’s in lieu of her state but he needed the space. Watching her mourn was getting to him.  
  
He washed off and dressed before taking a stroll through the Mansion. It was a Great House really, and he rather liked the historical feel to it. He took in the paintings on the walls and the ornaments and decorative fixtures. He smiled when he came across a painting of the goddess Venus. She was standing with her back half turned away from him and a cloth dangled from her hand and pooled at her feet. She turned to look at him and smiled. He inclined his head to her and swallowed.  
  
Lucius had always favoured paintings of Venus.  
  
Draco needed to leave. He needed to get away for a while and have a moment to himself. He needed to go where he did not have to worry about Zippy calling him for Narcissa. He bolted for the nearest fireplace and called the house elf.  
  
“Zippy I’m at Potter’s if anyone asks for me,” he said, as he tossed some floo powder into the hearth. He did not wait for the elf to respond before he stepped in and called out Grimmauld Place.  
  
When he stepped into the front room it was empty, and after calling out and looking around he found that Potter was not home. The man had been spending his time pushing to get the Death Eater trials in effect instead of the auctions, which apparently would have been continued. It seemed to be going fairly well from what Draco had read. The Ministry already looked fairly bad because of the war and the way Potter and his allies were wording things right now did not make it any better.  
  
And Minister Woolworth seemed fickle.  
  
Draco let out a staggered sigh and sat by the stairs to wait for the other man. His hands trembled, his throat ached and his eyes stung. Lucius was gone, he already knew that but now he was acutely aware of it. He buried his head in his hands and he let himself mourn. He was alone in the house and he did not need to worry about being strong for Narcissa. She wasn’t here to see him.

  


When the front door opened, Draco had just finished buttering some toast. He rushed out of the kitchen and in a flurry of movement Potter drew his wand as Draco tried to avoid having it pointed at him.  
  
“Malfoy? What the fuck?” Potter snapped. “I almost hexed you.”  
  
“Sorry, I was just getting some toast in the kitchen and I heard you come in,” he said. Potter looked tired and for some reason Draco got the strange feeling that he had missed the man.  
  
“Because that’s so normal since you’ve been living at Zabini’s for the past few days,” Potter said, as he tucked his wand away. “Look, do what you want, but I’m tired. I’ve been busy-”  
  
“Busy with promoting the trials. I know,” Draco said, as he took the man in with his eyes.  
  
“Is that what you’re here about?” Potter asked.  
  
“No, actually,” he replied. He felt his emotions swelling once more and he swallowed. “I... needed to get away for a bit.”  
  
“All right,” Potter nodded. “You can stay.”  
  
“Wait,” Draco muttered, as the man proceeded towards the stairs. Potter turned and looked tiredly at him. “...”  
  
Any words he would have said decided to stay stuck in his throat. He took the man’s hand and then surged forwards and kissed him, his toast forgotten and discarded. There was probably butter on Potter’s face now but he did not quite care.  
  
The man stumbled back and held on to him for purchase.  
  
“Malfoy,” Potter gasped, as he seemed to struggle between going with it and fighting Draco off. “Malfoy, wait. Hey, stop. Malfoy, _Malfoy_ , you don’t have to do this. I-”  
  
“I know,” he said. Potter had managed to push his hands off of him and so Draco had little choice but to speak. “I want to, though.”  
  
“Wh- You can’t be serious,” Potter said disbelievingly. His hands gave Draco’s a squeeze. Draco wondered if the man knew they did that.  
  
“Fucked up considering how I got to this point,” he said. “But yes, I’m serious.”  
  
“Malfoy, I never should have started making you-”  
  
“Potter,” he breathed, “could we perhaps discuss this at another time?” He pressed himself forwards as he spoke. He needed some sort of contact right now, as much as he could get, and he needed the heat and the ability to lose himself.  
  
The hands around his wrists loosened and Potter nodded as he looked him in the eyes. “Yeah... yeah, later,” the man said.  
  
A hand pulled him forwards and then they were snogging urgently. Draco nipped and tugged at the man’s lip and he groaned when a hand cupped his arse. Their tongues clashed and glided and delved around and somehow they had ended up on the floor groping and frotting against one another as they snogged.  
  
When their clothes vanished Draco gasped and bucked at the way their skin and their cocks touched. Potter summoned the lube and Draco took it and squeezed some onto his fingers before he began to prepare the other man. Potter did not object when he started, the man only nodded and spread his legs. Draco kissed and licked and bit at the man’s neck and collarbone as he worked his fingers. Potter writhed and arched and bucked underneath him. He could not wait; he wanted to feel the man surrounding him.  
  
Draco positioned himself at Potter’s entrance and leaned down to snog the man. Potter thrust his hips downwards and Draco groaned at the way the movement teased the head of his cock.  
  
“You really trust me, don’t you?” he murmured, as he touched the man’s face. Potter had not given him any warning glances or blatantly instructed him to take his time like he had on numerous other occasions. He was just letting Draco do as he pleased.  
  
“Yes,” the man said, as he wrapped his legs around him.  
  
Draco buried his head in Potter’s neck and kissed it. “I’ll be gentle then,” he whispered, his emotions stirring in odd ways.  
  
He kissed Potter wherever he could reach as he pressed inside slowly and steadily. Fuck if he did not just want to ram his way inside just then. Potter was tight and he was hot and Draco’s breath hitched as he felt the man stretch around the head of his cock. The man gasped and held on to Draco’s arms, his fingers threatening to dig into Draco’s skin. Potter clenched around him and he murmured reassurances as he pressed on, caressing the man with one hand as he used the other for support. Once he was rooted inside, he focused on snogging the man and wanking him slowly.  
  
Draco had missed this feeling and it was taking a great deal of effort to not start pounding Potter into the floor. His hips twitched of their own accord and he could not help but grind against the man to give himself at least _some_ relief. Potter clenched and Draco groaned at the pressure.  
  
“Fuck, that’s big,” Potter breathed.  
  
“It’s a cock, Potter,” Draco said. “It’s going to feel that way compared to a couple fingers. You’ll get used to it though. Now I’m going to start moving and I’m not going to stop, but I’ll take my time.”  
  
He did not wait for a reply. He could not. He was already trembling with the effort it had taken to keep himself in place, when he really only wanted to fuck the man without abandon. He pinned Potter’s arms down and he began to rock gently. He gradually increased the length of his thrusts and the speed. Soon he had a steady pace and was beginning to thrust harder.  
  
Now Potter was panting and squirming underneath him as Draco fucked him. The man met him thrust for thrust and Draco did not wait until he started to ask for more before he gave it. He leaned forwards on his forearms and he thrust hard and deep. Potter held onto him and let out puffs of air on nearly every thrust. The man turned his head and kissed and licked at Draco’s arm. He snarled and bit the man’s jaw as he felt a hot tongue glide over his Dark Mark. Potter arched and moaned.  
  
Draco sat up and turned the man on his side. He straddled one leg and raised the other onto his shoulder before he rammed his way back inside. He gave a few more long and hard thrusts and he steadied Potter’s hips with a hand before he ground his hips. When Potter groaned he kept that angle as he began to pound away at the man. Gasps and moans escaped the other man frequently. He slapped the man’s arse and watched as he arched. It seemed Potter liked a rough fuck.  
  
“Did you like that?” he teased, as he smacked the man’s arse once more. Potter gasped and clenched.  
  
“Fuck, Malfoy,” the man groaned.  
  
“Well fuck, Potter,” he said, as he rubbed the cheek. “If you want more just say it.”  
  
The man whimpered as Draco slammed into him and rolled his hips before fucking hard once more.  
  
“... More,” Potter said, as his hand squeezed Draco’s thigh.  
  
“More what?” he asked.  
  
“... Slap my arse... more,” Potter begged.  
  
“Like this?” Draco asked, as he brought his hand down on Potter’s arse cheek. The man bucked.  
  
“ _Ahh_ , yes,” Potter moaned.  
  
Draco slapped him a few more times with no real rhythm to it and Potter arched and whimpered. With a loud cry Potter came, right after Draco’s hand landed on his arse. Draco followed not long after and he buried himself inside the man with a moan, his hips twitching as he pulsed inside the man, Potter still fluttering around him.  
  
“Mmm,” Potter moaned.  
  
He smiled and leaned down to snog Potter, setting his leg down so he wouldn’t be uncomfortable.  
  
“That was...” Potter breathed. The man snogged him instead and Draco had a good idea what the man had meant to say.  
  
“You’re a kinky one, aren’t you?” he murmured.  
  
“I suppose I am,” Potter nodded.  
  
“That’s good,” he murmured, as he nipped at Potter’s jaw. “... Can I sleep here for the remainder of the time you have me for?”  
  
“Hmmm, what about Narcissa?” Potter asked. “She needs you, doesn’t she?”  
  
“I’m only sleeping here,” he said. “I’ll stay at Blaise’s in the days. It’s... too much, being there all the time. I can’t allow myself to deal with father’s... father’s death, while she’s around.  
  
“And you feel more comfortable doing that here?” Potter asked, as his hand trailed up and down the curve of Draco’s back.”  
  
“Oddly enough, yes,” he said, as he brushed a lock of hair away from Potter’s eyes.  
  
“Well then stay,” Potter said.  
  
“Thank you,” he replied, as he rested his head on his arm.  
  
“You know, whatever this is, it’s probably a bad idea,” Potter said to the ceiling.  
  
“I know,” he said.  
  
“And you’ll be out of my... care, in a few days,” the man pointed out. He seemed to want to avoid referring to Draco as a possession.  
  
“I’m aware of that,” he nodded.  
  
“And Merlin knows how these trials are going go, if they’re even approved,” Potter continued. “And if they are, who knows how long they’ll-”  
  
Draco clamped a hand over the man’s mouth. He did not want to hear all this right now. “I don’t quite care,” he said into the man’s ear.  
  
Potter turned his head to look at him and pulled the hand from his mouth. “All right.”

  


***

  


Harry was nervous. It had been two months since he had last seen the blonde and today the man was being released, following a fairly taxing but successful trial. The Ministry really had not wanted to have a long dispute with him, or several other war heroes that supported the trials, which included most people in the Order. So now Harry was sitting in his room waiting for an owl or for the floo to blaze.  
  
Whenever he thought about it all he wondered how the bloody hell he had ended up at this point. He had gone from hating the man to fancying him in one summer and under the strangest of circumstances. Whatever it was that they had between them, it was tangled and fucked up and they would have so many things to sort out, both together and individually, before it could work in any sort of healthy way.  
  
For now though Harry would be fine with simply having a few butterbeers in celebration of both the man’s release and his Exceeding Expectations on his Potions NEWTs. They likely would not jump right into... whatever this was... right away but now they had all the time they needed to sort out all the oddities in their semi-relationship, Harry learning not to continue dishing out instructions to the man and him, in turn, learning not to overly cater to Harry’s whims as if he still... served him.  
  
The floo roared and Harry turned to see the man’s face in the flames. “Draco,” he smiled.  
  
“Harry,” said the man. “How’ve you been?”  
  
“The truth?” he asked. “A bit lonely. You?”  
  
“Likewise,” Draco said. “Mother gets released tomorrow and the Manor’s a bit... Could you come over? I’ve had the house elves fix me a room while they... redecorate.”  
  
“I’ll be right there,” he said.  
  
Draco smiled and nodded to him. “Oh, and there’s no food here. So bring something to eat.”  
  
“Ordering me around now?” he teased.  
  
“I reckon it’s my turn.”

 

 


End file.
